


A Wonderful Institution

by rhosyn_du



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec doesn't need alcohol to make questionable life choices, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Awkward Flirting, Clave Politics (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Clave-Typical Homophobia, Discrimination Against Downworlders, Downworlder Politics, Dramatic Fainting, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magnus drinks and makes questionable life choices, Minor Character Death, Missing Persons, because Iris is the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhosyn_du/pseuds/rhosyn_du
Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do withthat.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 193
Kudos: 666
Collections: Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020, Suggested Good Reads





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020 hosted by the [Malec Discord Server](https://discord.gg/5nBgEp8).
> 
> Artwork by the amazing [Tilly](https://bidnezz.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, [Young_Murdered_Faery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Young_Murdered_Faery/), who saved you all from some truly egregious typos and nonsense sentences.

Magnus should have taken it as a sign when, instead of sending the information he asked for, the Spiral Council insisted upon an in-person meeting. He should, at the very least, have rescheduled cocktail night, but he wasn’t about to let politics or the headache that had been building behind his eyes all day interfere with standing traditions. If nothing else, he desperately needed someone to drink with.

“How is it,” Catarina asked as she slid into their usual booth, “that I just finished a ten-hour shift at the hospital, and you still look more worn out than I do?”

Magnus shook his head, raising his glass. “Drink first, my dear. Then talk. This is not a conversation anyone wants to have sober.”

“Cheers, then,” Catarina said, lifting her glass. “No Raphael tonight?”

“He’s overseeing the integration of a new fledgling. Ragnor also sent his regrets.”

“Ragnor has sent his regrets every week since 2003,” Catarina muttered into her cosmopolitan.

“And will continue to do so for years to come, I’m sure,” Magnus said.

“We’ll see about that. Come here.” Catarina motioned for Magnus to join her on her side of the booth.

Confused, Magnus joined her. “What are we—? Are we taking a selfie?”

“We,” she answered, smiling up at her phone, “are showing Ragnor how much fun we’re having without him, so he’ll be jealous and forced to show up for cocktail night sometime this decade.”

Magnus held up his drink, toasting the camera as Catarina snapped a photo, then frowned. “Since when does Ragnor have a smart phone?” he asked, watching Catarina tap out a text. “Or any kind of phone, for that matter.”

“Last month, I think?” she answered. “Raphael got it for him. Said texting was more convenient than fire messages, but honestly I think he just likes to give Ragnor a hard time about being such a Luddite.”

“But now I can’t tease him about still being stuck in the nineteenth century,” Magnus complained. “Also, how do you have his number and I don’t?”

“I’m guessing the same reason you look like you haven’t slept in the past month. You’ve been a little hard to get a hold of recently.”

Magnus made a noise of grumpy agreement.

“You want to talk about it?” Catarina asked.

“Why don’t you tell me about your week first?” Magnus suggested. “I’m still not ready to think about mine.”

Magnus was on his third bourbon on the rocks when Catarina finally got him talking about his own day and the disastrous meeting with the Spiral Council.

“Five warlocks missing in less than three months, and they brushed it aside like it’s nothing,” Magnus told her. “They called me there like they actually had information, but no, just ‘we haven’t heard anything, we’ll keep an ear out’ and then straight into this absolute nonsense with the Clave.” He drained the last of his glass and conjured another, too worked up to bother walking over to the bar to order. “As if it’s not suspicious enough that they want to renew the Accords years earlier than scheduled, as if marrying a Downworlder to a Shadowhunter as part of the terms isn’t among the most terrible ideas in the Clave’s grand library of terrible ideas.”

“Let me guess,” Catarina said. “They want you to be a part of the negotiations?”

“Oh, no,” Magnus said, waving his glass in a way that would, in anyone else’s hand, have sent the drink sloshing over the sides. “If they wanted _that_ , it would be annoying enough, but they actually had the gall to suggest I should put my name in for consideration as the Downworld representative in this disaster-in-the-making political marriage.”

Catarina made a strangled noise that might have been outrage but might also have just been choking on her drink. “They actually…” She shook her head. “The Spiral Council wants _you_ to marry a Shadowhunter? And they think this will _prevent_ war with the Clave?”

Magnus shook his head. “No, no, they don’t actually want me to marry anyone. They just want my name on the list. Something about how much it would mean to have such a visible sign of my support. Which they will not get, because, as I explained to them repeatedly and at great length, I do not support any of this. And that’s not even getting into my lack of confidence in their assurances that I wouldn’t be chosen.”

“They’re probably right about that,” Catarina told him. “Rumor is the Clave is putting forward one of the Lightwood children, and I can’t imagine a world where Maryse and Robert Lightwood would allow one of their offspring to marry you.”

“Somehow, the council failed to mention that part.” Probably because they knew how Magnus would react. This lunacy was bad enough without the Clave deciding the child of two former Circle members, one of whom was rumored to be the Consul’s personal enforcer, was the best person to make a political alliance with the Downworld. “That’s a bullet I’m more than happy to have dodged.”

“What, you don’t see yourself having a mad, passionate romance with a Lightwood?” Catarina teased.

Magnus wrinkled his nose in distaste. “As amusing as it would be to see the look on Maryse Lightwood’s face if I did, no. I would rather marry a Ravener demon.” He took a long pull of his whiskey. “I would rather marry Lorenzo Rey.” He drained his glass, setting it down on the table with a resounding thump. “I would rather see acid wash jeans as the height of fashion for the next three and a half centuries.”

“Only three and a half?” Catarina laughed. “Not four?”

“Even a Lightwood couldn’t be that bad,” Magnus told her. “Another round?”

“That’s all for me. I’ve got another shift in the ER tomorrow, and the last thing I need is a hangover to go with it. I’m happy to keep you company, though. Seems like you could use it.”

“Your company is very much appreciated, as always,” Magnus said. “I’ll just—”

Magnus’s train of thought as well as his sentence were effectively derailed by the arrival of a fire message. He plucked it from the air with a frown that only deepened as he read.

“It looks like that’s the last drink for me, as well,” Magnus said, gathering his coat from the seat beside him.

“Anything I can help with?” Catarina asked, nodding toward the paper in Magnus’s hand.

“I’ll certainly take it if you’re offering,” Magnus answered slowly. “This could be very bad.” He couldn’t, after all, think of any _good_ reason Iris Rouse would be calling him for help.

“Alec, you aren’t listening to me.”

Alec took a deep, calming breath, focusing on fastening the buckles of his thigh holster rather than how very done he was having this conversation for the hundredth time.

“I am listening, Iz,” he said, sliding the last buckle into place. “I just still disagree with you. And since this is my life and not yours, my opinion is the one that matters.”

Izzy grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her. “This can’t actually be what you want. If Mom and Dad are pressuring you into this—”

Alec snorted. “Trust me, Mom and Dad aren’t pressuring me into anything.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. They weren’t pressuring him into _this_ , not really. His mother made her disapproval quite clear, for all that she’d also said this marriage was necessary for the updated Accords.

Izzy’s eyes told him she wasn’t convinced. “I know Mom has said some things about how you should be looking for a wife,” she said.

“I’m pretty sure Mother meant I should marry a nice Shadowhunter girl,” Alec said. “Come on, Iz, do you really see our parents pressuring me into marrying a Downworlder? Even for the Accords?”

“Then why?” Her hand on his arm was a gentle pressure now, cajoling rather than demanding. “You keep saying this is your decision, but you won’t tell me why you’re making it.”

Alec sighed. This wasn’t something he wanted to talk about, not even with Izzy, but it was clear she wasn’t going to let it drop until he did. “Because someone needs to do it, and I at least won’t resent it.”

“Are you sure about that, big brother?” Izzy’s eyes were intent on his, and Alec both loved and hated how she could always see his deepest doubts and fears, even when he’d pushed them down so far he could almost forget them himself. “You deserve to be happy, Alec. You deserve to fall in love with someone who loves you just as much. And I think that’s what you want, too.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said, shaking off her hand. “This is what I’ve chosen.” This was what he could have. At least in an explicitly political marriage to a Downworlder, no one would expect him to act like he was in love with his wife or ask questions if they didn’t have children.

If he were very lucky, maybe his future wife would be open to adoption.

“But you can still make a different choice!” Izzy insisted.

“Isabelle,” he said. “Drop it.” 

Izzy opened her mouth to speak again, but Alec cut her off. “Come on, we’ve got a mission.”

He stalked out of the room before Izzy could say anything else, but her irritated huff of breath as she followed him to the ops center told Alec she wasn’t anywhere near as done with the conversation as he was.

They picked up the trail of Ravener demons just east of Prospect Park. Signs indicated maybe six or seven in the pack, which was worrisome since the original sighting was of more than twice that number.

“I can trace the trail back, see if it splits,” Jace suggested. “You guys follow this one and I’ll catch up with you.”

“All right,” Alec said after a moment’s hesitation, “but if it does split, call the Institute and have them send another team, then catch up with me and Iz. Do not go after the other group on your own.”

“Obviously,” Jace said, completely at odds with the hint of a smirk that told Alec that was exactly what he’d been planning to do.

Alec just barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

A quarter mile on, the trail split again, and Alec nodded to Izzy, indicating he’d follow left and she should follow right. He didn’t bother telling his sister to be careful. She might not always be exactly prudent, but she was very good at gauging what she could and couldn’t handle in a fight and had significantly better self-preservation instincts than Alec’s parabatai.

Alec made it another three blocks before he caught sight of one of the demons, darting from behind a dumpster to slink down a dark alleyway. Activating his night vision rune, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and turned down the alleyway after the demon.

There was no movement in the alley, no sound to be heard over the ambient noise of the surrounding streets. Alec scanned each dumpster that lined the alley, each pile of debris, searching for the place the Raveners had to be hiding. Ravener demons were fast, but not fast enough to make it to the far end of the alley so quickly.

A small sound drew Alec’s attention. It wasn’t the scuffling he expected, but instead something that sounded almost like a tiny, muffled sob. He focused on the area it came from, arrow nocked and ready.

It took Alec a few seconds to really register what he was seeing, sticking out from behind a pile of broken-down boxes. The toe of a small shoe. As he watched, the shoe retreated behind the boxes.

Alec lowered his bow as he moved toward the pile of boxes. Not all the way, because there was still a Ravener around here somewhere, but enough that he could approach without pointing it directly at the hiding child.

He debated speaking, which might put the child more at ease, but could also attract the attention of the Ravener, and any of its buddies that might be hanging around. He didn’t know who the demons were hunting, either. With so many at once, it was almost certain they’d been summoned by a warlock to track and probably capture or kill someone, and Alec couldn’t begin to imagine why someone would go to that kind of trouble for a kid, so they _probably_ weren’t the target, but he didn’t want to take the chance that he was wrong, especially since the kid was clearly hiding from something.

Splitting the difference between the two options, Alec dropped to a crouch when he drew even with the pile of boxes and spoke in a soft voice.

“Hi there.”

He waited a beat, and when no reply seemed forthcoming, continued. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to, but this isn’t a safe place to be right now.”

Still, nothing.

“Okay, well, if you don’t want to come out, is it okay if I come back there with you for a minute? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Again, silence. Alec waited.

After at least a full minute of silence, Alec heard movement behind the pile of boxes, and suddenly he was faced with a terrified-looking little girl. She looked to be maybe six or seven years old, if Alec had to guess, and even though fear was evident in her eyes and posture, she met Alec’s eyes without flinching and there were tiny blue flames flickering across the fingers of one small hand.

Alec forced himself to keep a relaxed posture, even as he kept alert for any sign of the Ravener demon. It was just barely possible that the Raveners were after a warlock child, although Alec still couldn’t imagine who would send a pack that size after a kid, even a warlock kid.

“That’s a good hiding place,” he said conversationally. “I almost didn’t notice you.”

The girl regarded him with somber eyes.

“Can I walk you back home to make sure you get there safely?” he asked.

This time, she shook her head emphatically, but the flames around her fingers died, which Alec took as a good sign.

“Okay,” he said. “We can stay here for a while if you want, but I need you to promise that if anything happens, you’ll get behind me, okay? There are some scary things out here, and you don’t have to face them by yourself.”

The girl cocked her head to the side, considering, then nodded.

“Cool gills,” Alec commented, nodding at the girl’s neck. That got him a tiny, shy smile. “I’m Alec.”

The girl chewed her bottom lip, then said softly, “I’m Madzie.”

Before Alec could respond, a Ravener sprang from the shadows of a nearby dumpster, heading straight toward them. In one smooth move, Alec turned on his knee, placing himself squarely between the girl and the demon, and let an arrow fly.

He didn’t bother to watch the arrow find its mark—he knew it would—already turning to loose another arrow at one of the two demons approaching from the other direction. The second demon was too close to use his bow by that time, so Alec pulled his seraph blade from the sheath along his thigh and rose from his crouch to drive the blade straight into the demon’s chest. He felt a faint, sharp pain in his knee, probably a rock or piece of broken glass he’d kneeled on. He’d deal with it later.

A sound from the mouth of the alley had Alec spinning again, seraph blade abandoned in favor of his bow once again. He had an arrow nocked and ready before he properly registered what he was seeing. The man standing in front of him, watching him with open curiosity and something else that made Alec’s breath catch in his throat, was most definitely not a Ravener demon.

The door to Iris Rouse’s home stood open several inches when Magnus and Catarina stepped out of the portal on her front stoop. It hadn't been broken down or torn from its hinges or apparently forced open in any way, which Magnus might have considered a good sign under different circumstances. Given the recent disappearances, however, the door hanging peacefully ajar seemed ominous.

The two warlocks entered cautiously, but the house was eerily silent and apparently empty, with nothing to indicate that even a struggle had taken place. It was an all too familiar scene.

Magnus swore softly. It wasn't just a missing warlock this time, though. There was also the matter of Iris's message. _Please, you have to save the children._

“We’ll need to search the house,” he told Catarina. “Not that I expect to find more here than I have anywhere else.”

“You never know,” she said. “Today could be your lucky day.”

“Seems unlikely, given how the day has gone so far.”

They decided to search top to bottom, and both agreed that splitting up would be a terrible idea. The first two rooms yielded nothing, exactly as Magnus expected. The third door, however, gave the first sign of something out of place. For one thing, it held two sets of bunk beds and a crib, plus a number of stuffed animals and a toy box tucked away in a corner. For another, the window stood open wide, white lace curtains fluttering in the breeze.

Catarina looked over the room, eyebrows raised. “Did you know anything about Iris raising kids?”

Magnus shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to Iris Rouse in over two centuries. I knew she was living in Brooklyn, obviously, but we were never exactly friendly, and we’ve been happy to keep right on avoiding each other. I guess this does give some context for her message, though.”

Catarina made a noise of agreement, kneeling to examine a stuffed rabbit that lay on the floor.

Magnus turned to look out the window, where a tree branch bobbed lazily in the wind. It wasn’t sturdy enough to hold his weight, but he thought it just might have been sturdy enough for someone smaller to grab a hold of and shimmy down, if they were determined enough.

“I think—”

A faint sound caught Magnus’s attention, causing him to pause mid-sentence. Catarina nodded, and gestured toward the closet. She’d heard it, too.

Magnus made a motion for Catarina to stay behind him as he approached the closet door. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he used his magic to fling the closet open, but it definitely was not the mundane woman who launched herself at him, teeth bared and fists flying.

Magnus stepped back, raising a hand to restrain her with magic. For a moment, the house was still and silent again. Then, the silence was broken by the unmistakable wail of an infant.

“You can’t take him,” the woman snarled, struggling against her magical bonds. “I won’t let you.”

It was a ridiculous thing for her to say. A mundane woman—barely more than a girl, Magnus realized, now that he was really looking at her—didn’t have a chance against two warlocks. But there was no doubt in Magnus’s mind that she meant what she said. If he and Catarina tried to take the baby nestled among the blankets at the bottom of the closet, this woman would do everything in her power to stop them.

“We’re not here to take anyone,” Magnus said in his most soothing voice.

“We’re friends of Iris’s,” Catarina added. Not exactly true, but close enough. “I’m Catarina, and this is Magnus. We’re here to help.”

The woman still looked suspicious, but when neither of them made any move toward the closet, she stopped fighting the bonds. Magnus released her as soon as she looked like she wasn’t in danger of trying to commit violence upon him. She immediately ran to the closet and scooped the infant up in her arms.

“I’m Leigh,” the woman told them, rocking the baby as its cries subsided. “They took Iris, and the children, too. I hid Noah, and I think Madzie might have gotten away, but I don’t know. There were just so many of them.”

“Who did?” Magnus asked. “Who took Iris and the children?”

Leigh frowned, her face going slightly vacant. “I don’t know. There were so many of them. They weren’t there, and then suddenly they were, but…” She looked at him, face all confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Which, of course, it wouldn’t, to a mundane. Except this mundane was apparently living with a warlock. Or at least babysitting for one. So, when the kidnappers dropped the glamor that kept them hidden, it seemed to her that they appeared out of nowhere.

Magnus had been paying more attention to Leigh than to the child, listening to her confused explanation, but he caught Catarina’s pointed look at him, then at the baby in the woman’s arms. She, at least, had been paying attention to the child.

Magnus glanced at the infant. At first, he didn’t see it, but then the baby blinked, and a second set of eyelids, like those of a raptor, closed across its eyes. The infant was a warlock.

“You’ve been through something very traumatic,” Catarina said, slipping into the voice Magnus had heard her use with patients. “It’s normal to be confused. Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

“I…” Leigh still looked dazed. “Yes, thank you.”

“You said the people who came here took Iris and the children,” Magnus said. “What can you tell us about the children? It could help us locate them.” Not that he had high hopes, if they were warlocks like the baby. He hadn’t been able to track a single warlock who had disappeared. He couldn’t even sense their magic, which meant they were most likely dead, although no bodies had turned up.

“Madzie is the oldest,” Leigh said. “She went out the window when those things—” She stopped, shaking her head. “When the people broke in, and we saw them grab Dierdre and Indra. They must have broken in. I wanted to go, too, but I didn’t think the tree could hold my weight, and anyway I couldn’t climb down with Noah, and I couldn’t leave him.” Her voice was climbing, becoming more panicked.

“So, you took him and hid in the closet,” Magnus finished for her. “It was a good plan. You said Madzie escaped out the window?” he asked, latching on to the one piece of information that might be useful. If a child had escaped, there was still a chance he might be able to find her.

Leigh nodded. “I heard them come into the room after. I thought for sure they were going to find us, but they never came near the closet. I heard them follow Madzie out the window.” She frowned. “Except, that doesn’t make sense, either. Because an adult shouldn’t be able to climb down that tree, so maybe…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Adult humans, no. But demons? There were plenty of demons small enough to climb down that tree. Hell, there were plenty of demons that could scale the side of the building, and several varieties that could fly.

“Can you show me something of Madzie’s?” Magnus asked. If he had something of the girl’s, if he wasn’t too late, he could track her. He might even be able to find her before the demons did. Or at least find the demons.

“Something of— Why?”

“Something familiar to comfort her when we find her,” Catarina lied smoothly.

“Oh,” Leigh said. “Oh, of course. There,” she said, pointing to the stuffed rabbit Catarina had noticed earlier. “That’s Mr. Flopsy. He’s Madzie’s favorite.”

“Thank you, dear,” Magnus said, grabbing the stuffed toy. He looked at Catarina. “I’m going to look for the girl. As soon as she’s recovered enough, take them back to the loft. They’ll be safe there while we figure out what’s going on.”

“We’ll see you there,” Catarina answered. Then, when Magnus hesitated, “We’ll be fine. Go.”

Magnus had no trouble at all picking up Madzie’s trail, which was on the one hand convenient, but on the other hand meant the demons probably weren’t having much trouble tracking her, either. The one solely good piece of news was that Magnus was able to recognize the girl’s magic from the residue on the toy, and he could still feel its echo out somewhere in the city. If the demons chasing Madzie had found her, at least they hadn’t killed her, yet.

It didn’t take him long to pick up the trail of the Ravener demons following Madzie, either. A warlock had scrubbed all sense of their presence from Iris’s house, but the trail popped up clear as day at the end of the block. Which suggested that whoever was controlling these demons hadn’t gone with them after the girl. They must have gone with Iris and the other children, wherever they’d taken them.

The trail led him half a mile east of Prospect Park before he heard the distinctive growl of a Ravener about to attack. Magnus ran toward the alleyway from where the sound had come, magic ready at his fingertips, only to stop dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner just in time to watch a Shadowhunter neatly dispatch three Ravener demons in rapid succession.

The man’s movements were fluid and efficient, arrows hitting their marks dead on before taking down the final demon with a seraph blade in a move that looked almost effortless even as his forearms flexed in a way that Magnus couldn’t help but appreciate. More impressive than the man’s skill at taking down demons, though, was the way he did so all while keeping himself between the threat he faced and the young girl behind him. The young _warlock_ girl.

Shadowhunters were pledged to protect the world from demons, and even the most repugnant ones Magnus had the misfortune of meeting seemed to take that job seriously, but he’d met precious few who would put forth even the slightest effort to protect a warlock, not even from a demon.

Then the Shadowhunter was turning to face him, and Magnus found himself struck once again, because the man was _stunning_ , with bright hazel eyes, full lips, and a jawline that could cut glass. He also had an arrow trained straight at Magnus’s heart.

Magnus searched frantically for something to say. Something witty and flirtatious, perhaps. Or something dignified and professional, as would befit the High Warlock of Brooklyn under such circumstances. Or just something that would reassure the Shadowhunter that Magnus wasn’t a threat.

What actually came out of his mouth was, “Who are _you_?”

For the briefest instant, Magnus thought he could see the hint of a bewildered smile on the Shadowhunter’s lips, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” the Shadowhunter countered. Then his eyes flickered to something behind Magnus, and Magnus whirled around to face a truly staggering number of Ravener demons pouring into the mouth of the alley just as an arrow flew past his shoulder to hit one of the demons in the chest.

“Kill demons now, introductions later?” Magnus suggested, tossing a ball of fire at the closest demon.

“Sounds like a plan,” the Shadowhunter agreed. “Stay behind me,” he instructed the little girl. “Keep your back to the wall.”

They fought surprisingly well together for two people who hadn’t even known each other long enough to exchange names. Without discussing it, Magnus handled the demons who managed to get into close range of their little group, while the Shadowhunter took down those further back.

“You know,” Magnus said as he watched another demon burn to a satisfying crisp, “normally I’d ask what a guy like you is doing in a place like this, but I get the feeling you might just be a killing demons in dark alleys kind of guy.”

“Not as many dark alleys as you might expect,” the Shadowhunter said. “And usually not this many demons at once.”

“Or with quite such charming company?” Magnus suggested. Only two left. “Because I certainly don’t.”

“Well, you’ve done a pretty decent job of proving you’re not the one who summoned the demons, at least.”

The Shadowhunter’s arrow hit one of the remaining two demons just as his own flames took down the other.

Magnus gave the Shadowhunter a sidelong glance. “Glad to know being in mortal peril helped with my credibility.”

Magnus turned to face the little girl, who was clinging to the leg of the Shadowhunter’s pants and crouched down to her level. She shrunk back from him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he unglamored his eyes. “Hi, my name is Magnus. Are you Madzie?”

The girl eyed him warily, then nodded once.

“Iris called me for help when the demons attacked your house, but I didn’t get there before you left. I’m sorry I wasn’t faster.” He pulled the stuffed rabbit out of his coat. “Leigh said you’d want Mr. Flopsy when I found you.”

The girl grabbed Mr. Flopsy and watched him shyly. “You know Nana?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Can you take me to her?”

“I’m sorry, sweet pea,” Magnus said, “but I don’t know where your nana is right now. I’m going to do everything I can to find her, though. And I can take you where Leigh and Noah are now if you want. My friend Catarina is taking care of them.”

Madzie looked at him for a long moment, then up at the Shadowhunter. “Are you coming?”

The Shadowhunter’s face showed a flicker of surprise before melting into a soft smile. “Yeah, I can come. I just need to let the rest of my team know where I’m going.” He glanced at Magnus, still smiling, and oh, Magnus was in trouble. “Where am I going?”

“My loft,” Magnus answered, too aware of the answering smile he had absolutely no control over. “In Brooklyn Heights. I’m Magnus, by the way.”

“Alec,” the Shadowhunter answered, his smile widening and making him somehow even more stunning. “I’m gonna,” he gestured over his shoulder awkwardly, eyes never leaving Magnus’s.

“Right,” Magnus said. “Call your team.” Finally, when it was nearly over, his day was starting to look like it just might make up for a little of the shitshow it had been.

“Yeah,” Alec said. And then his legs buckled beneath him.

Acting on instinct, Magnus reached out to steady him. Alec fell against his side, unable to get his feet back under him, and Magnus very intentionally pushed the way Alec’s back muscles felt beneath his hand to the back of his mind with a mental note to revisit that later, preferably not in the middle of a crisis.

“Sorry,” Alec muttered. “Sorry, I can’t—”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Magnus told him. “Are you injured?”

“Left knee,” Alec said, wincing. “Thought I cut it on some glass. Just need to—” He pulled out a stele and activated his iratze.

Nothing happened.

“I’m going to wager a guess,” Magnus said, leading Alec to lean against the nearest wall, “that it was not glass. Let me take a look.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Alec protested. “I just need to get back to the Institute.”

“Nonsense,” Magnus waved him off. “I’m right here, and it’s less effort to just heal whatever is wrong with you than portal you back to the Institute.” Probably. Maybe. “Besides, I owe you for rescuing Madzie.”

Alec’s voice was sharp when he answered, “You don’t _owe_ me for that. She needed help and I was here. And it’s my job,” he added, an obvious afterthought.

“Then,” Magnus said, crouching down to examine Alec’s knee, “consider this my way of saying thank you.”

It didn’t take him long to find it: a small wound just beneath Alec’s thigh holster. Madzie crowded in beside him, and he let her look, hoping the small size of the wound would ease her fears that Alec was seriously hurt.

“Demon venom,” Magnus concluded. “Not much or you wouldn’t still be conscious, but it’s been in your system too long for your iratze to help. I’ve got a potion that will take care of it back at the loft.”

It was a testament to how badly the venom was affecting him that Alec just nodded instead of arguing. Or maybe he really did take Magnus’s line about a thank you at face value. Either way, he let Magnus put an arm around him and help him off the wall.

Magnus was about to open a portal when two more Shadowhunters dashed into the alley.

“Alec!” the dark-haired woman cried, rushing toward them.

“‘M fine, Iz,” Alec mumbled, very clearly not fine. “I’ve got everything under control,” he explained, before promptly passing out on Magnus’s shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for content warning.

There were too many Shadowhunters in Magnus’s loft. It had probably been a mistake to invite Alec in the first place, but Magnus had let his judgment be swayed by a pretty face and a frightened child, and now he was stuck with the man’s sister and parabatai, too.

Magnus thought that perhaps, had they met under different circumstances, he might have enjoyed Isabelle’s company. Jace, on the other hand, managed to perfectly embody the condescending arrogance that so annoyed Magnus about Shadowhunters.

“Help him up into a sitting position,” Magnus instructed. “It will help the potion go down easier.” He spared a reassuring smile for Madzie, who sat curled up in a chair with Mr. Flopsy, watching the proceedings with worried eyes that nonetheless kept blinking toward sleep.

Isabelle and Jace did as instructed, maneuvering an unconscious Alec from his sprawl across Magnus’s couch into something that resembled an upright position.

Magnus leaned over Alec’s head, where it lolled against the back of the couch, hand resting against Alec’s cheek to hold him steady.

“Alexander,” he said softly. “if you can hear me, I need you to swallow the potion I’m going to give you.”

There was no response. Magnus hadn’t really expected one, but thought it was worth saying in case some part of Alec’s unconscious mind heard him.

Slowly, Magnus poured the potion into Alec’s open mouth, stroking a hand down Alec’s neck to encourage swallowing. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the movement of Alec’s throat beneath his fingers.

“He should be awake in a few minutes,” Magnus said.

“Thank you,” Isabelle said with an air of genuine gratitude that Magnus had rarely heard from a Shadowhunter.

“It was no problem, my dear,” Magnus said, and was surprised to realize he meant it.

As soon as Alec woke, the Shadowhunters would be out of his hair, and he could deal with every other disaster the evening had presented him with. Like the mundane woman and infant warlock currently asleep in his guest room, under Catarina’s watchful eye.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Catarina stepped out of the guest room, closing the door softly behind her. She motioned to Magnus, who joined her in the corner of the room. As he’d suspected would happen, Madzie had fallen asleep in her chair.

“The mundane is under a whole tangle of memory spells,” Catarina said quietly. “Too many for me to untangle in one evening, and honestly, after hearing the little she did remember, I don’t know if it would be good for her to remember the rest of it.”

“That bad?” Magnus asked, frowning.

“I can’t be entirely sure, but I think…” Catarina let out a tired breath. “I think Iris has been luring or kidnapping mundane women and forcing them to bear warlock children.”

Magnus took a deep breath to rein in the fury that suddenly flared through him. Deal with the practicalities first.

“Does she remember if there were other mundane women living at the house?”

Catarina shook her head. “One of the few things Leigh is very clear on is that she and Iris were the only ones caring for the children. And she remembers that she’s Noah’s mother, although thankfully for her sanity, she doesn’t remember anything about how she came to be pregnant.”

“Lucky for her, certainly,” Magnus said, “but that leaves us not knowing where Iris was getting the demons.”

“Actually,” Catarina said, “she also mentioned something about the basement of the house being dangerous. It could be nothing, but…”

“But it could be that Iris was keeping a captive demon in the basement for her disgusting breeding program,” Magnus finished for her.

“We can go check it out after your guests leave and we get Madzie into an actual bed,” Catarina offered.

“I have a better idea,” Magnus said, glancing over his shoulder to where Jace and Isabelle were conferring quietly on the couch beside a still-unconscious Alec. “Shadowhunter!”

“Warlock,” Jace responded, sounding bored, but he and Isabelle rose to join Magnus and Catarina.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “I have reason to believe a missing warlock might have been keeping one or more demons captive in her basement. I thought perhaps you might want to look into it, since dealing with demons is kind of your whole,” he waved a hand, “Shadowhunter thing.”

Jace and Isabelle exchanged a quick look, then Isabelle said, “We will look into it. If you give me the address, I’ll make sure someone checks it out.”

“While you’re at it,” Alec muttered from the couch, eyes blinking open, “could you look into being a little less loud?”

Isabelle was the first to reach his side, with Jace close behind. Magnus took his time joining them.

“You had us worried for a minute there, big brother,” Isabelle said.

“How are you feeling?” Jace asked, and the concern was so evident in his tone that Magnus could almost forgive him for being such a complete pain in his ass. Almost.

“Headache,” Alec answered. “No serious damage except maybe my pride. Did I really get taken down by a Ravener demon?”

“You did,” Magnus answered, “but given that there were at least two dozen of them, I think your pride will recover.”

Alec looked up at him then, and Magnus was caught once again in those startling hazel eyes. He wondered how it was possible for a man he’d only just met to have such an effect on him.

“Thank you,” Alec said. “For healing me. You didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense,” Magnus said. “If I’d been faster, you might not have been hurt in the first place. Although,” he added with a flirtatious smile, “if you really wanted to thank me, you could buy me a drink sometime.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus saw Isabelle cover a smile with her hand and decided that, yes, she could also have an exemption to his one Shadowhunter in the loft is too many rule.

“Uh,” Alec said, looking bemused, “you can bill the Institute for your time. How long was I out?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Jace told him.

“And the demons?”

“All of the trails converged on the alley where we found you,” Isabelle said. “We got there just in time for your dramatic collapse,” she added, grinning.

Alec winced. “Ouch. Wounded pride, remember?”

“I suspect the demons were tracking Madzie,” Magnus said. “I followed their trail from the house where she was staying with several other warlocks. It’s not the first attack of this kind I’ve seen in recent months, although it is the largest.”

“This got something to do with the missing warlock you mentioned?” Alec wanted to know.

Magnus nodded. “One of several, I’m afraid.” Although he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel too bad that Iris had been taken, not if Catarina’s suspicions proved true.

“And this has been going on for months.” It wasn’t a question. Alec looked at Jace. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it too,” Jace answered, shaking his head.

“We haven’t exactly been advertising the disappearances,” Magnus said. “And to be honest, I don’t think anyone expected Shadowhunters to care about a few missing warlocks.”

“Well, I do,” Alec said, annoyance clear in his voice. “We do.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “We should get back to the Institute,” he said, standing. “Thank you, again. For healing me, and for having my back.”

“It was my pleasure, Alexander,” Magnus answered. “It is, tragically, not every day I have handsome men swooning in my arms.”

Magnus thought he caught the tiniest hint of a smile as Alec rose from the couch.

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything about those missing warlocks,” Alec promised.

“Please contact me if you do,” Magnus told him. “Or if there’s anything else you think we might be able to help each other out with.”

Magnus saw the Shadowhunters out, then returned to the living room, where Catarina was watching him with amusement.

“Oh, he’s too pretty not to flirt with and you know it,” Magnus told her.

“I said nothing,” she said, shaking her head but still smiling.

Magnus flopped theatrically onto his finally empty couch and closed his eyes. He thought perhaps one was the right number of Shadowhunters to have in his loft, so long as it was the right one.

Alec managed to get a full five hours of sleep before a pounding on his door woke him. He’d meant to go straight to bed when they’d returned to the Institute, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and instead he’d spent nearly an hour reading everything in the Clave database about Magnus Bane, and then another two lying awake in the dark, trying to reconcile any of it with the man who’d fought at his side and saved him from demon venom. Who’d caught him when he fell.

Before Alec could shake the cobwebs of dream and the vague impression of kohl-rimmed eyes from his mind and answer, his sister was opening the door and barging right in.

“Come right in, Iz,” Alec muttered into his pillow.

“Sorry, _hermano_ ,” Izzy said, perching on the side of his bed, “but I thought you’d want to know that Mom’s here.”

That woke him right up.

“Did she say why she’s here?”

Izzy shook her head. “Just that she wanted to see you when you were up. She said she’d be in her office.”

Her office. Of course. Never mind that his parents had been in Idris for most of the past four years, or that neither of them had even set foot in the New York Institute in over six months, they were still technically Heads of the Institute. Alec just hoped she didn’t move anything important on his desk. Her desk. Fuck.

Alec tried not to be bitter about it, he really did, but some days it was harder than others, and today was apparently one of those days.

“Thanks for letting me know. Can you tell her I’ll be there in twenty minutes?”

“Can do, big brother.” She leaned in to give him a hug. “I’ll be training if you need a sparring partner to blow off some steam with after.”

It took exactly ten seconds in his mother’s presence for Alec to know he would most definitely want to hit things after this meeting. There was a brittle edge to her perfunctory smile that managed to convey all of the same disappointment evident in her recent letters while not quite hiding a bone-deep exhaustion. Not for the first time, Alec wondered what exactly his parents were doing in Idris.

“Mother,” Alec said, stepping into the office and falling instinctively into parade rest. “This is unexpected. If I’d known you were coming, I would have been awake to welcome you.”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Maryse answered. “I finished what I was working on earlier than expected, and Consul Penhallow suggested I come and ensure everything is set for next week’s negotiations.”

It made sense that the Clave would send someone to oversee preparations for the final round of negotiations over the revised Accords, since those negotiations were to be held at the New York Institute. It even made sense that the Clave would send Maryse, as one of the official Heads of Institute. But Alec couldn’t quite shake the suspicion that his mother was here for more personal reasons.

“I’m sure you’ll find everything in order,” Alec said. “Will Father be joining you?”

Maryse’s answering smile was tight. “Your father will be here in time for the negotiations. He still has some things to take care of in Idris.”

Her smile sharpened, and Alec knew he’d been right about why she was here.

“Besides,” she continued, “I thought you and I could take this opportunity to discuss your future, just the two of us.”

Alec shook his head, suddenly feeling as though he’d gotten no sleep at all. “There’s nothing _to_ discuss. I volunteered, the Council chose me, end of discussion.”

“There’s still time to change your mind,” Maryse said with a carefully controlled calm. “The negotiations aren’t until next week. The Council will choose someone else, and the Downworlders will never know the difference. If you’d bothered to consult me about this in the first place, or even your father—”

“I consulted with Consul Penhallow,” Alec interrupted.

“Jia Penhallow doesn’t give a damn about what your decision means for this family,” Maryse snapped. “Or what it means for you.”

Alec looked away, choosing his words carefully. “What it means for this family is that the revised Accords—the ones that _you support—_ will be signed, and they won’t be put in jeopardy by someone who resents marrying a Downworlder for political reasons. When the Clave first announced this marriage was going to be a part of the revised Accords, you and Dad are the ones who convinced me it was necessary. I’m doing what I can to make sure it goes smoothly.

“Besides,” he continued, finally meeting his mother’s eyes again, “you’re the one who suggested I start looking for a wife.”

“I meant you should find a _Shadowhunter_ wife, Alec!” Maryse said, throwing up her hands. “Yes, the revised Accords are important, and yes, someone needs to do this, but that person doesn’t have to be you.”

Alec regarded his mother for a long moment. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked finally. “The Council thinks I’m the right person to do this, and so do I. If you have a reason for disagreeing that goes beyond distaste over the idea of your son marrying a Downworlder, then tell me what it is.”

For just an instant, Maryse seemed to hang on the precipice of speaking, but then her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. “I’m doing what’s best for our family, Alec.”

Alec knew his mother well enough to know that there was no point in asking again.

“So am I,” he said instead. “Is there anything else? I told Izzy I’d train with her this morning.”

Maryse shook her head. “We can discuss preparations for the negotiations when you’re feeling less recalcitrant.”

He found Izzy in the training room, practicing forms with a staff, right where she’d promised to be.

“That bad?” she asked, grabbing a second staff from the rack on the wall and tossing it to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“Nope,” he told her, feinting high, then moving to sweep her left leg.

Izzy danced out of the way, laughing. “Come on, Alec. If you’re not going to keep me up to date on family gossip, at least give me a decent fight.”

She moved toward him, throwing out three jabs in quick succession, all of which he blocked.

“Now who’s not giving a decent fight?” he taunted. “I was getting a better workout arguing with Mom.”

“You’re still recovering from last night,” she said, rolling the staff lazily across her shoulders as they circled each other. “I wouldn’t want to further damage your ego.”

“Cute,” Alec said before launching another attack, this time at Izzy’s midsection, which she blocked and rolled into her own attack.

They kept on like that for several minutes, attack and parry, back and forth, neither managing to land a blow. It was exactly what Alec needed to ease the frustration of his earlier meeting.

“Speaking of last night,” Izzy said just as Alec felt the last of the frustrated tension loose from his shoulders, “have you heard from Magnus?”

Alec felt a tiny frisson of…something deep in his belly at mention of the warlock. It distracted him enough that he didn’t quite block Izzy’s next attack, and his shoulder caught a glancing blow. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as Izzy’s smug grin.

“Why would I hear from Magnus?” Alec asked, rolling out his shoulder with an intentional casualness.

Izzy gave him a pointed look. “About the missing warlocks? You did promise to share information, remember?” Her grin widened as she bounced from foot to foot, looking for a hole in his defenses. “Or maybe he thinks you’d have a different answer for him if he asked you out without so many people around.”

“He didn’t— That’s not what that was,” Alec insisted. He could admit, at least to himself, that he’d been just a tiny bit flattered at Magnus’s flirting, but he wasn’t foolish enough to take it seriously.

And even if Magnus had been serious, it wouldn’t matter. Alec was getting married.

Izzy gave him her most disbelieving smirk, then added insult to injury by blocking his next attack seemingly without effort.

“Then maybe _you_ should ask _him_ out,” Izzy suggested. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“Izzy,” Alec said warningly, “drop it.”

“For now,” she agreed, once again darting out of range of his staff. “But don’t think this conversation is over, big brother.”

Alec was saved from answering by the arrival of a fire message. It was entirely Izzy’s fault that he let himself wonder, for those few seconds before he read it, if it might be from Magnus.

“Everything okay?” Izzy asked, lowering her staff.

“Yeah,” Alec said, frowning faintly. The message was from a warlock, just not the one he’d been hoping to hear from. “Yeah, I just gotta take care of something real quick.”

“Guess I’ll just have to kick your ass later then,” Izzy said with a shrug.

Alec decided that one wasn’t worth answering.

“Thank you again for coming,” Catarina said, leaning back against the park bench. A few feet away, Madzie was pushing Mr. Flopsy on the swing set. “She just wouldn’t believe you were really okay until she could see it for herself. And with Iris gone, she doesn’t have a whole lot of stability in her world right now.”

“I get it,” Alec said. Shadowhunters didn’t exactly tend to live long and full lives, and this wasn’t the first time he’d seen a kid who’d lost a parent figure panic over other people getting hurt. “And I don’t mind. If seeing me alive and well is what it takes to make Madzie feel safe again, that’s something I’m happy to do.”

“You’re her hero, you know,” Catarina told him. “You and Magnus. She doesn’t talk much, but when she does? It’s about how the two of you saved her. I think I’ve heard the story five times already this morning.”

“I don’t feel like much of a hero,” Alec said. “I was just doing my job.”

“Maybe,” Catarina said, watching him carefully, “but you do it a lot better than most Shadowhunters. At least where warlocks are concerned.”

Alec shrugged uncomfortably. This was not a conversation he wanted to have on a sunny morning in the park with a near-stranger.

“How are the others you rescued, the mother and baby?” he asked instead. Izzy had filled him in on the details he’d missed while he was unconscious.

“As well as they can be under the circumstances, Catarina answered. “Safe. It’s not as common that a warlock child and his mother need shelter as it is for a warlock child alone, but it’s common enough that we have safe places for them.”

“That’s—” Alec didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never really had reason to think about what life was like for warlock children, but it made sense they wouldn’t exactly have a stable home life with one mundane parent and one demon. “I’m glad they have somewhere to go.”

Alec’s phone beeped, the tone he used for alerts from the Institute, and he sighed. “Duty calls.”

Catarina gave him a tired smile. “It always does.”

At Madzie’s insistence, Alec gave Mr. Flopsy a hug before heading back to the Institute, and whatever his mother needed from him now.

For the second evening in a row, Magnus found himself with a splitting headache and in desperate need of a stiff drink. He’d spent the day speaking to Iris Rouse’s few friends in the hopes of finding something that might lead him to her or the missing children. Instead, he’d merely found that Iris’s friends were no more pleasant than the woman herself.

He was just about to open a portal back to his loft—and his plethora of whiskey—when he sensed the demonic energy. He was being followed. Very sloppily.

Instead of opening the portal, he crossed the street and headed east. If someone was stupid enough to send demons to follow him, he was damn well going to find out who and why.

The demons kept themselves well back as Magnus wove his way through crowded streets, and he began to think they were merely tracking his movements. Which was good, because he didn’t think there were more than three following him, and if these demons were sent to track him by the same person who sent the horde of Raveners after Madzie, Magnus would be very insulted that they’d sent fewer demons for him than for a six-year-old.

But if it was the same person, Magnus didn’t want these demons reporting back to the person who summoned them. Even though his investigation into the disappearance of Iris Rouse and the warlock children living with her had yielded basically nothing, he didn’t want to give the person who took them even that much information about what he did and did not know.

Decision made, he turned another corner, leading his pursuers toward an area likely to be a bit less crowded. Glamour could hide what he was doing from passersby but fighting demons in the middle of a crowded street in Midtown wasn’t exactly safe for innocent bystanders, even if it was going to be a very short fight.

It was another ten minutes before he found a short side street deserted enough Magnus wasn’t worried about some mundane accidentally stumbling into his fight. With an air of nonchalance, he stopped and pretended to examine a particularly large crack in the sidewalk.

As Magnus had hoped, the demons followed him onto the street, although they kept to the shadows. He’d been right: there were three of them. Shax demons, and almost certainly sent to spy on him. It took less than ten seconds to take them down, a blast of magic in the thorax of each.

“Well done,” came a voice from over his right shoulder.

“More like medium-rare,” Magnus said with a smirk as he spun around to face Alec. “You know, if I’d realized you were going to come dashing to my rescue, I would have left one of them for you.”

Alec raised his eyebrows in skepticism, but Magnus could see the hint of a smile underneath, and it was breathtaking. “You don’t really strike me as the type to need rescuing.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Magnus agreed. “But I wouldn’t want you to feel like I don’t appreciate the attempt.”

“That’s not— I mean, I wasn’t—” Alec blew out a long breath. “I was following up on a possible demon sighting, not trying to rescue you.”

“I suppose that’s a relief,” Magnus said, ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment that Alec was looking for demons and not for him. “It wouldn’t do for Shadowhunters to think the High Warlock of Brooklyn can’t take care of himself.”

Alec snorted. “I don’t think there’s any danger of _that._ ” Magnus quirked an intrigued eyebrow, and Alec hurried to add, “I just mean, the Clave’s file on you is pretty clear on your ability to take care of yourself.”

“I would question the accuracy of anything the Clave has to say about me,” Magnus said, “but I’m glad to hear they got one part right, at least.” And he was more than a little pleased that Alec had been reading up on him, even if his choice of source material was questionable.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec said. “Do you know what those demons were after?”

“Following me,” Magnus told him. “I spent my day investigating the latest warlock disappearances, and I suspect the person responsible sent those Shax demons to follow me and report back on my activities. Not that I’ve had much luck in finding anything.”

“Are you sure you’re safe?” Alec asked with a frown. “If the person kidnapping warlocks is tracking you, you could be their next target.”

“I appreciate your concern, Alexander,” Magnus answered sincerely, “but I assure you I’ve taken plenty of precautions. As we just covered, I’m more than capable of handling myself in a fight, and my loft is quite well warded.”

Alec’s frown lessened, but didn’t disappear entirely, and Magnus couldn’t help but be touched by his concern. “And is that where you’re headed now? Back to your loft?”

Magnus nodded. “I was thinking I could use a drink after the day I’ve had.” He paused, debating internally, then added, “Would you care to join me?”

Emotions flickered across Alec’s face like frames in an old-time film: surprise followed by delight, which was quickly doused by regret.

“Magnus, I wish— I just—”

Magnus held up a finger to silence him. “I understand.”

And he did, much as he wished he didn’t. Shadowhunters weren’t exactly accepting of same-sex relationships, nor relationships between Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Whatever attraction there might be between the two of them, Alec was obviously unwilling to pursue it. Maybe even unwilling to acknowledge it. Really, it was what Magnus should have expected, and he hated that he’d let some small part of himself hope.

Alec huffed out a frustrated breath. “You don’t,” he said, but offered no further explanation.

“Well,” Magnus said, letting his own regret show through a tiny smile, “it was a nice thought. Goodnight, Alexander.”

He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard a faint “goodnight,” follow him through the portal back to his loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: The first scene in this chapter includes mention of rape.


	3. Chapter 3

Alec told himself he was just doing his due diligence when he spent what little free time he had in the week following his second meeting with Magnus Bane investigating the recent warlock disappearances. Demons were involved, which made it Shadowhunter business, he reasoned, and it was happening in New York, which made it his Institute’s business. Plus, it was an excellent distraction from his mother’s presence and the impending negotiations with the Downworld, with everything that implied.

It had nothing at all to do with helping Magnus, or worrying that Magnus might be making himself a target, or how very badly he wished he could have accepted Magnus’s offer to join him for drinks.

It couldn’t have anything to do with Magnus. He barely knew Magnus. Magnus, who was centuries old and quite possibly one of the most powerful living warlocks in the world and easily the most beautiful man Alec had met in his entire life. Magnus, who made his stomach churn in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Magnus, who had probably only invited him for drinks because it made sense for the High Warlock of Brooklyn to get to know the Acting Head of the New York Institute, anyway.

Magnus, who looked at Alec like he could actually see him—and _liked_ what he saw.

Alec got the names of the other missing warlocks from Catarina. He’d visited with Madzie three more times, all at Catarina’s request, and he and Catarina had formed a tentative sort of bond over their shared concern for the girl. Catarina didn’t mention Magnus, and Alec didn’t ask, and he ignored the small comfort he felt over the probability that if anything had happened to Magnus, Catarina would have mentioned it.

He didn’t mention the missing warlocks to his mother, or anyone else. Yes, she was Head of the Institute, and since she was actually in the Institute for once, she was also in charge of all ongoing missions and investigations. But she was busy preparing to receive dignitaries from the Clave and envoys from the Downworld, and Alec justified keeping it from her on those grounds. He had Jace and Izzy to help with investigation, and that was more than enough.

And Izzy helping with the investigation kept her from pestering Alec about his impending wedding. Mostly, anyway. He only wished it did half as good a job distracting him.

“According to her upstairs neighbor, Evangeline Grim is polite, fond of cats, and makes a great lavender shortbread,” Jace reported.

“Perfect,” Alec said. “Maybe whoever is kidnapping warlocks is hoping to start a magical bakery.”

“The couple who live next door thought she might have been keeping a cat in the apartment even though it's supposedly a pet-free building,” Izzy offered.

“Okay, we'll just forget about Evangeline Grim for now,” Alec decided. “Anything new on any of the other victims?”

“I confirmed that Bastian Pyre did several jobs for the seelies,” Izzy said, “but I don’t know if that’s helpful. A lot of warlocks do work for seelies.”

Alec felt a headache building behind his eyes. They'd been at this for a week, and they'd found nothing that gave any clue to where the missing warlocks might have gone. He was starting to understand why Magnus was so frustrated by the disappearances.

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Jace suggested. “Do some training, grab some dinner, maybe get a little downtime before tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, when the negotiations to finalize the revised Accords would begin. Tomorrow, when Alec would find out the name of the complete stranger he'd agreed to marry. Alec wasn't ready to think about tomorrow.

“I just,” Alec said, staring down at his assorted notes. “I just need a little more time.” He ignored the look that Jace and Izzy shared. “There's gotta be something in the information we've gathered.”

“Maybe,” Izzy said slowly, “you could try calling Magnus.”

Alec's eyes snapped up to look at his sister. “Why would I call Magnus?” He could hear the defensiveness in his own voice, and he hated it.

“Because he's investigating the same disappearances we are,” Izzy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, Alec realized, it kind of was. “And he's been doing it longer. It makes sense to share information.”

Dammit, it did make sense. And there was a part of Alec that was desperate for an excuse to see Magnus again. But there was an even bigger part, the one in charge of important things like self-preservation, that knew it was a bad idea. He'd met Magnus Bane twice and had barely convinced himself to walk away the last time. Who knew what he'd do if he let himself see Magnus again?

“I'm sure Magnus has more important things to do than talk to me about the lack of information we’ve found,” Alec said in a tone that made it clear the matter wasn't up for discussion. “You two go ahead and take that break. I'll catch up with you at dinner.”

The look Izzy gave him as she left said he was being an idiot, but Alec ignored it. He was in no mood for his sister's well-meaning critiques of his life.

Jace paused on his way out. “Hey,” he said, laying a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Whatever you need to do, I’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

“I do.” It should have been comforting that at least his parabatai trusted him to make his own choices when the rest of his family didn’t. A week ago, it would have been. A week ago, Alec trusted himself. “Thank you,” he said anyway.

“Any time,” Jace said. “But if you work through dinner, I’ll let Izzy come find you.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “What happened to having my back?”

“That is having your back,” Jace told him.

With a heavy sigh, Alec turned back to the notes spread out in front of him. Come hell or high water, he was going to make sense out of this mess.

Magnus portalled himself and the three other Downworld representatives to the Institute for the negotiations, as they had decided it made sense to present a unified front to the Clave. This supposed unified front was of course somewhat undercut by the fact that the Downworld factions had sent representatives of wildly varying rank.

The Spiral Council had managed to convince Magnus that he should act as the warlock representative on the grounds that these final negotiations were being held in New York, and he couldn’t deny that it made sense for the High Warlock of Brooklyn to attend. The New York werewolf pack had sent their Second, a woman named Gretel who Magnus had only met in passing, and the vampires had sent Raphael, who held a similar position in the New York vampire clan.

The Seelie Queen herself represented the seelies in the negotiations, and while it made a sort of sense as it was a seelie who had finally been chosen to be married off to whichever Shadowhunter the Clave put forward (something about the woman having half-nephilim cousins she was fond of making her a good choice), her presence made Magnus uneasy.

Magnus thought perhaps the glass of whiskey he brought with him—his third for the evening, or was it fourth?—might also ruin the unified front a bit, but he'd promised the Spiral Council he would treat these proceedings with the respect and decorum they deserved, and they did not come close to deserving him sober.

The Clave representatives did not meet them at the entrance to the Institute. Magnus couldn’t help keeping an eye out—subtly, of course—for Alec as the two Shadowhunters who met the Downworld delegation led them to the room where the negotiations were to take place. He couldn’t help his disappointment when he failed to catch sight of him, either. Seeing Alec, even for a moment, would have vastly improved this trip.

The Clave delegation was already seated around a large cherry wood table when they arrived, looking for all the world like they’d been kept waiting despite the fact that he and the other Downworld representatives had arrived several minutes early. Magnus refrained from rolling his eyes at the obvious power play but did sip his drink with affected disinterest. And then proceeded to nearly choke on his drink when he spotted a familiar figure among the rest of the Clave representatives.

Alec's shoulders were taught with tension, and there was a furrow between his brows that Magnus wanted to reach out and smooth away with his fingertips. Instead, he banished the glass from his hand and straightened from his dismissive slouch. The Clave might not deserve his respect, but he could pretend for Alec.

He even made an effort to smile politely at each representative’s introduction. Even Inquisitor Herondale, who looked at him with the same distaste he imagined she might look at something she found on the bottom of her shoe.

Magnus's smile froze, though—along with every muscle in his body—at Alec's introduction. Because Alec was Alec _Lightwood_ , Acting Head of the New York Institute, and now that he knew, Magnus didn't know how he hadn't seen it before. Standing there next to Maryse and Robert, Alec was so obviously their son.

Except Alec had done things Magnus never would have expected from a Lightwood. He’d protected Madzie. He’d thanked Magnus for healing him. He'd looked at Magnus like he was everything worth looking at. So maybe it wasn't that strange Magnus hadn't realized who his family was.

Their eyes met briefly as Magnus made his own introduction, but Alec kept his face carefully neutral. Magnus hated it, hated whatever had put that rigid tension in Alec's posture, hated the storm of emotion he couldn’t identify hiding in Alec's eyes.

After introductions were done and all representatives had seated themselves around the table, the negotiations began. This last session was really more of a recap of the terms all parties had agreed to in previous sessions than anything else, and Magnus was pleasantly surprised to find that the terms of the revised Accords were mostly minor updates to the current version. Given the Clave's insistence that the revisions happen _now_ instead of at their regularly scheduled time and their demand that a marriage be included, he'd expected a major overhaul, likely with further ridiculous demands from the Clave. That it wasn’t should have eased Magnus's concerns, but it didn't. Instead, it just made him more wary about what the Clave might be up to.

In the end, though, there was nothing he or any of the other Downworld representatives had major objections to. There were a few disagreements over wording, but in the end, they had a document all parties were happy with.

Magnus couldn't help the way his eyes wandered over to Alec during the discussion. Consul Penhallow did most of the talking on the Clave side, so Magnus didn't have the best excuse for watching Alec, but it was like his eyes had a mind of their own, drifting toward Alec any time he wasn’t consciously looking somewhere else, cataloguing every word, every movement, every breath.

It didn’t help, Magnus thought, that Alec avoided meeting his eyes once they were seated. Oh, he wasn’t obvious about it. He simply watched whoever was speaking, and if that person happened to be Magnus, Alec watched his hands, or fixed his gaze at a point over Magnus’s shoulder. Magnus hated it almost as much as the furrow in his brow. The furrow that seemed to deepen with every passing minute.

“Which brings us to the final updated clause,” the Consul was saying, and Magnus once again forced himself to look away from Alec and pay attention to the proceedings.

A decision he immediately regretted as she launched into a short but pointed speech about how the union between Shadowhunter and Downworlder would symbolize the enduring peace between their races. As if there had ever truly been peace between the Clave and the Downworld. As if Shadowhunters didn't assume the worst of Downworlders in any given situation. As if there weren't, even now, Shadowhunters who kept trophies of the Downworlders they killed. As if two of the Shadowhunters sitting at this very table hadn't been party to Valentine Morgenstern’s attempted genocide.

Truly, he pitied the poor seelie woman who'd been conscripted for this so-called symbolic union. No matter how fond of her cousins she might be, it couldn't possibly make it any less loathsome to be married to a—

Magnus's brain came to a screeching halt as several pieces clicked together to form a distressing whole. Married to a Lightwood. Catarina had said the Clave was putting forward one of the Lightwood children. And Alec… Alec, who sat across the table, hands clasped so tightly together that his knuckles shone white. Alec, who protected Madzie from demons without a second thought, who protected _Magnus_ from demons even though Magnus was more than capable of protecting himself. Alec, whose smile made Magnus feel things he hadn't let himself feel in nearly a century. Alec was Maryse and Robert Lightwood’s son.

Magnus wished, suddenly and desperately, that he hadn't banished his drink earlier. He wished he hadn't agreed to come to this meeting at all. He wished with every fiber of his being that he'd put those pieces together wrong.

As usual, Magnus's wishes went unanswered by a cold and callous reality.

“For a century and a half, the Accords have brokered peace between the Clave and the Downworld,” Alec said. He addressed the table, but when he finally— _finally_ —looked at Magnus, their eyes locked, and they were both caught. “But they haven’t done enough. We bind ourselves to their rules, Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, and it’s enough to prevent all-out war, but only just. There’s still distrust and even hatred between the Clave and the Downworld.”

There was something in Alec’s gaze that Magnus couldn’t quite place—conviction or resignation or both—and he almost seemed to be willing Magnus to understand.

“This union, along with the other revisions to the Accords, gives us the chance to open a bridge of understanding between Shadowhunters and Downworlders,” Alec continued, and there was a flash of regret in his eyes, just like there had been when he turned down Magnus’s invitation for drinks, before he looked away, “and I am honored that the Clave has chosen me to be a part of this union.”

Even though he’d known it was coming, hearing Alec say it aloud was a shock, and Magnus drew in a quick, surprised breath.

“I have to say I’m a bit surprised the Clave conscripted you for this, Alec Lightwood,” the Seelie Queen commented, “given your family history.”

“I volunteered,” Alec told her, frowning.

“Is that a formal objection to the Clave’s choice?” the Consul asked.

“Not at all,” the Queen answered with a small smile. “Simply making an observation.”

“In that case,” the Consul said, “would you like to share who the Downworld has chosen as a representative in this union?”

“Of course,” the Seelie Queen answered.

When Raphael asked him about it later, Magnus would blame the whiskey, but the truth was he couldn’t stop thinking about the regret and resignation in Alexander’s gaze.

“That would be me,” Magnus said.


	4. Chapter 4

In the utter silence that descended upon the room, all Alec could hear was his own heartbeat, so loud and so fast he almost thought everyone else in the room should hear it, too. Throughout the entire meeting, he’d felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room for him to breathe, but now it was the opposite, as though his brain were suddenly flooded with too much oxygen, leaving him lightheaded and giddy and vaguely nauseous. When he looked at Magnus, he was surprised to see something like his own shock mirrored back at him.

The silence was broken when the vampire representative muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “ _Dios mio,_ ” at the same time that Maryse demanded, “Is this a joke?”

Alec tore his gaze away from Magnus. “Mother—” he started.

He was interrupted by the werewolf. “We aren't the ones questioning  _ your _ choice, Shadowhunter. If anyone is treating this like a joke, it's you.”

“No one is treating this like a joke,” Consul Penhallow said, throwing a pointed look at Maryse.

Alec thought his mother might actually argue with the Consul, right here in front of the Downworld representatives, but the Seelie Queen spoke before Maryse could.

“I think it's a lovely match.”

Once again, the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. No one wanted to contradict the Seelie Queen, and seelies couldn't lie, so she meant what she said, but it was more than a little disturbing to have that kind of endorsement. Even Magnus looked uncomfortable, an expression that seemed wholly out of place on his usually self-assured face.

“The Clave will want some time to vet our choice, of course,” the Seelie Queen continued. “As we will to vet yours.”

“Naturally,” Consul Penhallow agreed. “We’ll be in touch by fire message by the end of the week, which should keep us on track to sign the updated Accords at the next new moon, as planned.”

“Indeed,” Magnus said. “We’ll be in touch, as well.” His eyes flickered to Alec for an instant, gaze full of meaning Alec couldn't decipher, then just as quickly back to Consul Penhallow, who met his polite smile with one of her own.

It dawned on Alec that they were talking like this was something that might actually happen, like he might actually marry _ Magnus_. It wouldn't happen, of course. He knew the Clave would never let him marry a man, politics or not. They would find some reason to object to Magnus, and the Downworld would choose someone else—a woman—for him to marry. And even though that was what he'd spent the last several months expecting, what he'd chosen, the idea was suddenly alien and wrong.

Or, he realized, the Downworlders might find some reason to object to him. The brief flicker of hope that thought sparked died instantly when he realized that meant the Clave would choose another Shadowhunter to marry Magnus. That didn’t even bear thinking about.

He was pulled from his racing thoughts by his mother's hand on his arm. He must have missed the closing of the meeting, because the Downworld representatives were filing out of the room. Alec tried to catch Magnus's eye, but he seemed engrossed in a quiet yet intense conversation with the vampire.

“We’ll fix this,” Maryse promised him in a low voice. “I'm sure you understand now why your father and I were so concerned when you volunteered. But I'll talk to Consul Penhallow. I'll talk to the whole Council. No one is going to make you marry that—” her face twisted in disgust “—that warlock.”

“There's nothing to fix,” Alec replied evenly. “The Downworlders chose their representative just like the Clave did, and maybe Magnus isn't who any of us expected, but you don't have to make a scene just because you were expecting a woman.”

Maryse stared at him. “I was expecting a werewolf. Maybe a seelie. I wasn't expecting a warlock. I wasn't expecting _Magnus Bane_.”

For the first time, it occurred to Alec that his parents must know Magnus, at least in passing. According to the Clave’s file, he’d been High Warlock of Brooklyn the entire time Robert and Maryse had been Heads of the New York Institute, which would have given them ample opportunity to run into each other.

“What do you have against Magnus?” Alec regretted the question as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“Magnus Bane has something of reputation,” Robert said, stepping up to stand beside his wife. It was the first time in the years since they’d been recalled to Alicante that Alec had seen his parents present such a united front. “Even for a warlock, he’s a bit of a lothario. Alec, there is so much you don’t know about him.”

“All of which,” Consul Penhallow interrupted with a tight smile, “the Council will take into consideration during the vetting process.”

Alec’s breath caught in his throat. That almost sounded like…

“You can’t honestly be considering this,” Maryse said, echoing Alec’s thoughts, if not the sentiment behind them.

“There will be plenty of time for you to make your objections in an official capacity when we return to Alicante,” Consul Penhallow told her. “Right now, I need to speak with Alec.”

It was a clear dismissal, and although Maryse looked like she wanted to argue, she turned and stalked from the room, Robert trailing after her.

Alec turned to the Consul and found himself caught in Jia Penhallow’s unwavering gaze. Despite being more than half a foot shorter than he was, she had the uncanny ability to make Alec feel small in a way that few other people could.

“What are your thoughts on this, Mr. Lightwood?” the Consul asked.

It was a good question, and not one he was in any way prepared to answer. Alec chose his words carefully. “My reasons for volunteering for this union remain unchanged, Consul. Who the Downworlders choose to represent their end has never factored into it.” He was starting to think that maybe it should have.

Consul Penhallow’s mouth twitched in what Alec though might have been amusement. “Good answer, but not what I was getting at. The Council needs to vet the Downworld’s choice. Magnus Bane is the High Warlock of Brooklyn. You’ve been running the New York Institute for over three years. Surely, you must have some opinions on the man.”

Alec didn’t know whether he was more surprised that Consul Penhallow truly seemed to think the Council would seriously consider him and Magnus getting married (and, oh, he could not think about that right now), or that she’d referred to him running the Institute. She, along with the rest of the Council, usually at least pretended like his parents still ran things here.

“I, uh.” He faked a cough to give himself a few more seconds to formulate a coherent response. “I only met Mr. Bane recently, but I’ve worked with him a couple times, and I found him to be—”  _ fascinating, beautiful, breathtaking _ “—very easy to work with.”

Consul Penhallow’s face remained impassive save for her eyebrows, which raised nearly to her hairline. “I’ve heard Magnus Bane described in many ways by many people,” she told him, “but I believe this is the first time I’ve ever heard him described as easy to work with.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Alec said with a shrug.

Consul Penhallow gave him a long look. “It’s not often I find myself agreeing with a Downworlder, but perhaps the Seelie Queen had a point.”

With great effort, Alec managed to force the question he’d been wanting to ask past the cacophony of butterflies in his stomach. “Do you think there’s really a chance the Council might approve Magnus?”

“I don’t know,” Consul Penhallow said. “It’s certainly an unconventional match, and there are plenty of people who will oppose it for that reason alone, but Magnus Bane is surprisingly well-respected among Downworlders, which makes him a particularly good choice symbolically. He’s the High Warlock of Brooklyn and you’re Acting Head of the New York Institute, which has a certain symmetry. And from everything I’ve seen, you’re at least as stubborn as your mother, which makes you less likely than most to be influenced or corrupted by someone like Bane.” She gave him a resigned shrug. “It’s really a shame neither of you is a woman, or I think even a few skeptics of this whole endeavor might be convinced.”

Alec didn’t know how to respond to any of that—wasn’t, in all honesty, sure he remembered how to breathe properly—so he simply nodded.

“Thank you for your input,” Consul Penhallow said. “I’ll be sure to relay it to the rest of the Council. We’ll send you a fire message when we’ve made our decision.”

And with that, Alec was left alone in the empty room. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, trying to pull his thoughts into some kind of coherent order, but the click of approaching heels snapped him out of it.

He looked up, expecting his mother had returned to give him another lecture on what a terrible idea this was, but it was Izzy who stepped into the room, followed by Jace.

“Alec, what happened?” Izzy asked. “Mom came out of that meeting looking like she was about to stab someone.”

“She, uh.” He swallowed down what he was sure was the beginning of a hysterical laugh. If he let it out, he thought he might never stop. “She doesn't approve of who the Downworlders want me to marry.”

“Whoever they chose, she can't be as bad as all that,” Jace said. “Not unless you think they're trying to sabotage the Accords.”

“Do you approve, Alec?” Izzy wanted to know.

“I don't think it's sabotage,” Alec answered, ignoring his sister's question. He wasn't even sure he knew the answer.

He liked Magnus, so of course he didn't disapprove the way his parents did. But he'd volunteered for this marriage assuming whoever the Downworlders choose, she'd be entirely the wrong gender for attraction to even enter into it. Instead, they'd chosen Magnus, a man Alec hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since they met. And he'd  _ let _ himself think about Magnus, because Magnus could never be anything more to him than a seductive fantasy, not when he was about to get married. Except, now he was maybe marrying _Magnus_ , and he didn't know what to do with that at all.

“Then what is it?” Jace asked, and Alec knew he was as much asking what had Alec in a state of near panic as he was about Maryse's reaction. Alec could only imagine what Jace was probably feeling through their parabatai bond right now.

“Magnus,” Alec said, and he was proud of how steady his voice sounded. “The Downworlders want me to marry Magnus.”

Jace and Izzy exchanged a look, then Izzy asked cautiously, “Do you want to tell us about it?”

“No.” That, at least, Alec had a definitive answer for.

“Cool,” Jace said, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning against. “Then you can come spar with me.”

“Oh, Alec gets an invitation to spar, but not me, huh?” Izzy said.

Jace flashed her his signature cocky grin. “I just thought getting knocked on his ass a few times might distract Alec from his problems, but you're welcome to come get knocked on your ass, too.”

And just like that, Alec's world made sense again, at least this tiny part of it.

“Yeah, we'll see if you're still smirking like that when I wipe the floor with you,” Alec said, falling comfortably into the familiar banter as he followed Jace toward the training room.

“Please,” Izzy scoffed. “You know I'm going to kick both your asses.”

Cocktail night that week was moved to Magnus’s loft, nominally because Catarina needed to be somewhere quiet enough she’d hear her phone if whoever was watching Madzie needed to get in touch with her, but Magnus suspected it was really because his friends wanted to lecture him about making questionable life choices, and were just kind enough not to do so in public. He’d already gotten an earful from Raphael after the meeting with the Clave.

“I’m more shocked that everyone went along with it than anything else,” Catarina said after Magnus finished giving her a very abbreviated recap of how, exactly, he’d come to be tentatively engaged to a Shadowhunter.

“I foolishly assumed he had a good reason,” Raphael told her. “In retrospect, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I had a good reason,” Magnus objected.

“‘He has pretty eyes and I had three glasses of whiskey’ is not a good reason.”

Magnus glared at him. “I never said anything about Alexander’s eyes.”

Magnus would, he was sure, have done a better job of defending himself if his wards hadn’t alerted him to the arrival of another person. The only person, in fact, who currently had access to pass through Magnus’s wards without express invitation, precisely because he never, ever showed up unannounced. At least he never had before.

“What,” Ragnor’s voice rang through the loft, “is this absolute nonsense I hear about you marrying a Lightwood?”

Magnus blinked at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s cocktail night,” Ragnor answered, reaching into Magnus’s liquor cabinet to retrieve the bottle of Laphroaig he knew would be there. “And I heard through the grapevine that you could use your friends’ support at the moment. As well as a bit of gentle mockery.”

“I did not say gentle,” Raphael protested.

Glass of scotch in hand, Ragnor settled onto the chair across from Magnus. “I've heard Raphael's version of events. Would you care to give me yours?”

“Don't listen to Raphael,” Magnus said. “It had nothing to do with Alexander's pretty eyes.”

Ragnor glanced at Catarina. “How many drinks has he had?”

“Just the one since I got here.”

“I'm not drunk,” Magnus told them irritably. “I'm just thinking.”

“It's about time you tried that,” Raphael said.

Magnus ignored him. “I sincerely doubt the Clave's prejudices will allow them to even consider a marriage between two men, but if they're serious about this marriage of politics, which they appear to be, then they’re going to want to reject me in the least insulting way possible.”

“Do Shadowhunters even know how to not be insulting when talking to a Downworlder?” Catarina wondered.

“No,” Magnus said. “Which means it will probably take them a few days to come up with something, and that means I have time.”

“Time for what, exactly?” asked Ragnor.

“To convince Alexander that he doesn't want to go through with this marriage.”

There were a couple beats of silence before Raphael said, “I take it back. Stop thinking. You're doing it wrong.”

“What if you're wrong?” Catarina asked. “The Clave is already overlooking their prejudices insisting one of their own marry a Downworlder. What if this is important enough to them that they overlook other prejudices, as well? Then you'll be stuck trying to find a way out of this without jeopardizing the Accords.”

“Even if I'm wrong about the Clave, there's still the Lightwoods to consider. There's no way Maryse Lightwood is letting me marry her son.”

“Just so I'm clear on the plan,” Ragnor said, “you decided on the spur of the moment to volunteer to marry a man with pretty eyes so you would have time to convince him not to get married at all?”

“Well, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like that,” Magnus said. “But in my defense, I was three drinks in when I came up with this plan.” He sighed. “And he looked so sad and so scared underneath it all, and I couldn't just let it happen.”

“Magnus,” Ragnor said softly. It was his serious and concerned voice. Magnus was not prepared for Ragnor to be serious and concerned. “Are you in love with this nephilim?”

Magnus gave him a sharp look. “Don't be ridiculous. I've met him a grand total of three times.” He stared down into the dregs of his old fashioned. “I think maybe I  _ could _ love him, though.”

Ragnor sighed. “You certainly do know how to make things difficult for yourself, old friend.”

“Have you thought about what you're going to say to him?” Raphael asked, and Magnus didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed that Raphael finally had non-insult-based input.

“I’ve thought of a number of things to say to him, none of them actually helpful.”

“So, you decided to spend your time sitting at home drinking, instead?” Catarina asked.

Magnus glared at her, and she held up a placating hand. “Just trying to understand the plan, here.”

Magnus was saved from having to try to explain the plan that he didn’t actually have by the arrival of a fire message.

“Ah,” he said, “someone must require the assistance of the High Warlock. Since, you know,  _ some _ people actually appreciate me and don’t spend their time mocking my misery.”

“Their loss,” Raphael muttered.

“There’s no need to be bitter just because some of us…” Magnus trailed off as he read the contents of the message.

Something must have shown on his face, because all three of his friends went from relaxed to alert in less than a heartbeat.

“What is it?” Catarina asked. “Another disappearance?”

Magnus shook his head. “It’s from the Spiral Council,” he answered faintly. “The Clave sent word that they’ve finished their vetting process. They have no objections to me.”

It made Magnus feel only slightly better that his friends all looked as stunned as he felt.

The shocked silence was broken by the loud ringing of electronic wind chimes.

“That’s my babysitter,” Catarina said, reaching for her phone. “I’m sorry, Magnus, but I have to go.”

“Go,” he told her. “Take care of Madzie. I’ll be fine.”

Catarina gave him an apologetic smile and a quick hug before rushing out the door.

“Well,” Ragnor said with forced cheer, “I think this calls for another round of drinks, don’t you?”

“Just hand me the bottle,” Magnus said.

“Before you get too much farther into your drunken binge,” Raphael said, “there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Talk fast,” Magnus told him, taking a swig of bourbon straight from the bottle to emphasize his point.

“The missing warlocks you’ve been looking for,” Raphael said. “I think there might be a few night children missing, too.”

“ _Might_ be?” Magnus asked, setting the bottle down.

Raphael shook his head. “You know how Camille is. I asked her about a couple people I haven’t seen around lately, and she told me she’s sure they’re around somewhere.”

“Which could mean she’s actually seen them recently,” Magnus said, “or that she has them off doing something for her.

“Or that they actually are missing, and she just doesn’t care,” Raphael finished the thought.

Magnus glared at the bottle he’d set on the table. He was going to have to talk to Camille about this. He really didn’t want to talk to Camille. He wanted even less to do it sober, but this required his actual attention.

He turned his glare on Raphael. “I was really looking forward to getting exceptionally drunk, you know.”

Raphael put a hand on his shoulder. “I was really looking forward to you pulling your head out of your ass and deciding a pretty-eyed Shadowhunter wasn’t worth all this trouble. I guess we can be disappointed together.”

Alec was not panicking. He was letting a six-year-old teach him how to fold a paper frog (a little awkward, since she was using magic to do it, and he wasn’t) and ignoring the text his mother had sent him (which promised a much, much longer conversation in person) and not thinking at all about the fact that Clave really did want him to marry _Magnus_ (which was almost everything he’d ever wanted except not at all, oh _god_ ) and he was. Not. Panicking.

“No, like this,” Madzie said, unfolding and refolding her paper.

Alec tried again. His paper did not look like a frog. Maybe a little like one of those tiny, smush-faced dogs, if he tilted his head, but not a frog. He was not panicking.

They both turned at the sound of a portal opening, and Madzie jumped to her feet to greet Catarina with a hug. It was hard to believe she was the same timid girl Alec had met only a week ago.

“Thanks for coming back early,” Alec said. “I hope I didn’t ruin your night. I just— Something came up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Catarina told him, ruffling Madzie’s hair. “Nurse, remember? I know what it’s like to have something unexpected come up that needs your immediate attention.”

“Right.” Alec turned to Madzie. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and play longer, but I’ll practice my frogs so I can make better ones next time.”

“Okay,” Madzie agreed. “And if you make bad frogs even after you practice, I can share my frogs.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Alec told her, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch.

“You want a portal back to the Institute?” Catarina offered.

Alec shook his head. “Thanks, but I could use the walk.”

Putting off the conversation his mother was sure to expect as soon as he arrived sounded like a fantastic idea. Along with the conversation Izzy was no doubt planning to spring on him. Alec loved his family more than anything, but sometimes they were more than he could handle, and this thing with Magnus… It was confusing enough without his mother and sister in the middle of it.

“Hey,” Alec said, pausing with his jacket halfway on as something occurred to him. “You know Magnus, right? Like, personally?”

Catarina’s expression was carefully neutral when she answered, “Magnus is one of my oldest and dearest friends.”

“Right,” Alec said, finally remembering to pull the jacket over his other arm. “Okay. I don’t know if he mentioned— Or maybe you just heard? But we’re sort of—”

“I was having drinks with Magnus when you texted me,” Catarina interrupted him. “I take it you got a similar message to the one he received this evening?”

“Yes,” Alec said, letting out a relieved breath. He didn’t know why finding the words to talk about this was so difficult, but he was glad he didn’t have to explain the entire situation. “And I was thinking it might be a good idea for me and Magnus to talk. Not through official channels. But it would be rude to just show up at his loft, and a fire message seems a little too impersonal, but I was thinking maybe you could give him my number and tell him he can call if he wants to, you know, talk. About things.”

Alec winced internally. That was a whole lot of rambling, but he thought it got the point across, at least.

Catarina stared at him for a long moment, then held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Alec asked, handing over his phone anyway.

“So I can give you Magnus’s number,” she said, opening his contacts. “I love Magnus dearly, and I like you a whole lot better than I do most Shadowhunters, but I am not going to pass messages for the two of you.” She handed him his phone. 

“Thank you,” he said, pocketing the phone.

As soon as he was outside, Alec texted Jace.

_ On my way back to the Institute. If you can find an important and time-sensitive mission that needs my attention before I get there, I will owe you a lot. _

Jace answered immediately.  _ How much is a lot? _ Then, seconds later,  _ JK, I’ve got you, buddy. We’ve actually got one of those already. I’ll tell Iz to get ready, and we can head out when you get back. _

_ Thank you, _ Alec wrote back.  _ You are the best parabatai. _

He was putting his phone away when he received a final message from Jace.  _ I know. _

The prospect of spending the rest of the night on an actual mission instead of dancing around conversations he wasn’t even ready to think about, let alone actually have cheered Alec considerably, and he made it back to the Institute in much less time than he’d originally planned.

Jace met him at the entrance. “Izzy’s still getting dressed, but if you can get her to hurry, we can get out of here before Maryse gets off her call to Alicante.”

“Do you know what the call is about?” Alec wanted to know.

“No idea, but she closed herself up in the office to take it.”

As curious as he was about what his mother was up to, Alec didn’t want to risk actually having to talk to her right now. Thankfully, Izzy didn’t need much hurrying, as she met him in the hallway halfway between her room and the ops center.

“Really?” Alec couldn’t help asking as he took in the white wig slung over Izzy’s hand.

“Don’t change the subject,” Izzy said. “And anyway, demons dig blondes.”

“That’s white, and you can’t change the subject at the beginning of a conversation.”

“Glad you agree,” Izzy said, twirling the wig around one finger. “Mom told me you heard back from the Clave.”

“She told you,” Alec repeated.

“Okay,” Izzy admitted, “I might have been in the room when she was telling Consul Penhallow exactly what a terrible idea this is, but Alec,” she grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop, “I want to know what  _ you _ think about it.”

“I think we have a mission,” he said shaking off her hand and striding into the ops center. “Jace, we’re ready.”

“Nice choice, Izzy,” Jace commented, taking in her outfit. “Demons dig blondes.”

“Told you,” Izzy said smugly.

“Am I the only person who knows the difference between blonde and white?” Alec wondered aloud.

“All right, guys,” Jace began. “For some reason, our demon friends are killing mundanes and draining their blood.”

“Why do they want blood?” Alec asked. “Wait, do you think these could be the same demons who are taking warlocks? Or are we dealing with multiple hordes of hunting demons?”

“If they are the same demons, the MO is totally different,” Jace said, walking to the weapons rack and pulling out seraph blades for each of them. “These demons are leaving drained mundane bodies lying around left and right.”

“There must be something special about the blood,” Izzy guessed, taking one of the blades.

“What could be special about mundane blood?” Alec wondered.

“You get me a sample, and I’ll tell you exactly what they’re looking for,” Izzy promised.

Alec supposed it was as good a place to start as any.


	5. Chapter 5

To say that Magnus was surprised to get a phone call from Alec would be an understatement, but he wasn’t about to question it when he’d been trying to think of a way to approach the man anyway. So when Alec suggested that it might be a good idea for them to meet in an informal setting, Magnus said he was free now and invited him over to the loft, grateful that he didn’t have the hangover he’d initially been expecting to have this morning, although he was still more than a little bitter about the reasons for that.

He hadn’t even gotten the information he needed from Camille, since his plans to see her had been interrupted by a call from the bouncer at Pandemonium saying that he’d spotted two Circle members at the club. He’d ejected them immediately, with what sounded like help from no few of the patrons, but Magnus went to check things out anyway. If nothing else, seeing that he took this matter seriously would reassure the Downworlders who frequented his club that he took their safety seriously.

As Magnus flipped through his closet, he mentally reviewed what he planned to say to Alexander. Circumstances had changed, but the basic plan was the same: convince Alec that political marriages in general, and this one in particular, were a terrible idea, and then somehow segue into convincing Alec to go out on a date with him immediately after convincing Alec not to marry him, and, you know, this plan was really a lot better when Magnus was convinced the Clave would never approve of Alec marrying _him_.

Okay. New plan. Convince Alec that he didn’t actually want to be involved in this ridiculous Accords marriage and save everything else for another day. Magnus let out a frustrated breath. It would have to do.

Addendum to the plan, he thought as his hand stopped on a favorite deep plum button-down. Look amazing while executing the plan.

By the time Alec arrived, Magnus was a bundle of nerves. He did, however, look amazing, if he said so himself. Alec seemed to agree, if the way his eyes briefly trailed over the open V of Magnus’s shirt when he opened the door were anything to go by.

“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus said.

Alec’s eyes snapped to Magnus’s face, a hint of surprise in them, as though they’d strayed southward without his knowledge or permission. It was more than a little charming, and Magnus had to remind himself why he’d invited Alec over.

“Thanks for agreeing to see me,” Alec said as Magnus led him into the loft.

“Of course,” Magnus answered. “I have to admit I’m having trouble thinking of a circumstance in which I wouldn’t want to see you,” he couldn’t help adding, and then immediately wished he could take it back. This meeting was for executing the plan, not flirting. No matter how much he liked Alec’s little almost-smile when he did.

“I was just about to mix myself a drink,” Magnus said. “Can I offer you anything?”

“Um, sure,” Alec said. “I’ll have…whatever you’re having?”

Magnus turned to his dry bar and quickly mixed up a couple of lemon drops. It wasn’t what he’d normally drink, but it should be easy enough on the palate of someone who didn’t even have a usual cocktail order.

When Magnus turned back around, Alec was still standing awkwardly in the entrance to the living room. Magnus walked over and handed him his drink.

“To us,” Magnus said, and dammit, he was just unbelievably bad at this whole not flirting with Alec thing.

Alec clinked his glass against Magnus’s and took a sip from his drink. His resulting wince had Magnus reconsidering his stance on lemon drops as a suitable drink for people who don’t normally indulge.

“Why don’t we sit down,” Magnus suggested, leading the way further into the room.

He briefly debated sitting on one end of the couch but decided that would be a bit too intimate for the conversation he wanted to have if Alec took the other end. Instead, he settled in a red velvet armchair that was a wonderful contrast to his shirt.

Alec perched on the edge of the other armchair, looking for all the world like he might bolt for the door at any minute. He took a long sip from his drink, wincing again but looking far more determined after.

“I thought it might be a good idea,” Alec began, “for us to discuss our plans and, um, expectations. For after the wedding.”

And Magnus couldn’t help himself. It was just too good an opening. “Well, I’m not planning to ravish you on our wedding night, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“No! That’s not—” Alec spluttered. “I didn’t mean to— I don’t think you—”

“Unless you ask nicely, of course,” Magnus added smoothly, with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle.

The tension in Alec’s body drained away as he rolled his eyes in a way Magnus might almost have called fond.

“I _meant_ ,” Alec said, sounding genuinely at ease for the first time since he’d entered the loft, “that we should discuss our expectations for how we intend to present ourselves as a married couple and our plans for leveraging that to support the Accords and improve the relationship between Shadowhunters and Downworlders.”

Magnus froze, drink an inch from his lips. Of all the possibilities he’d been anticipating, the idea that Alexander might actually believe this marriage could be some kind of real benefit to relations between the Clave and the Downworld was not among them. He took a careful sip of his drink, letting the sour-sweetness roll over his tongue while he reassessed all of his earlier assumptions.

“To be honest, Alexander, my expectations in that regard are that we will be very lucky if the Clave's insistence on marrying two strangers together as a symbol of the integrity of the Accords doesn't result in all-out war.”

Alec frowned. “But we aren't strangers. I don't know you well, but I know that we fight well together and I—I like you, and that’s more than I can say for a lot of people. And we have the chance to do something here, something real. You're the High Warlock of Brooklyn and my parents might officially run the Institute, but I'm Acting Head and actually run it for all practical purposes. We can use those positions to our advantage and maybe really start to change things.”

It was hard not to get swept up in Alec's earnest optimism, the way his face lit up when he was speaking.

“The Clave has been paying lip service to improving relations with the Downworld for centuries,” Magnus said. “And they have proven to be nothing more substantial than so much smoke every time. Do you really believe that if you tried to use your position as Acting Head of the Institute to change the way Shadowhunters here treat Downworlders, you'd actually be allowed to keep your position?”

“I think,” Alec said carefully, “that I'm not in a position to make big changes, but even small changes can make a difference. Even just the fact that we'll be married, a Shadowhunter and a warlock, and people will see it, that could make a difference.”

“Except,” Magnus countered, “that everyone knows this is purely a political alliance. Just another clause in the Accords.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Alec snapped.

Magnus froze, unable to find words to respond to _that_.

Alec made a frustrated noise and rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m saying this all wrong.” He looked at Magnus, who was still unmoving and watching Alec warily. “What I mean is, I trust you.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why, but I do. And I think this could be an actual partnership, that we could make a real difference. Together. If you want.”

Magnus forced himself to relax, pushing down the stab of disappointment that Alec hadn’t actually been suggesting their political union could grow into a real marriage. It would have been a foolish and naive suggestion, anyway. But that did bring up an angle of argument Magnus might be able to use to his advantage.

“What about love?” Magnus asked, intentionally vague. He didn’t miss the way Alec’s eyes went wide at the question.

“W-what?” Alec stammered.

“I’ve lived for centuries, Alexander,” Magnus said. “I’ve fallen in love, fallen out of love, broken hearts, had my own heart broken, all countless times. You’ve been alive, what? Twenty years and change? You haven’t had those experiences, and if you go through with this marriage, chances are you never will. Or worse, you will fall in love one day, and you’ll have to choose between keeping the Accords intact and being true to your own heart.”

“You sound like my sister,” Alec told him.

“It sounds like Isabelle is a smart woman,” Magnus said with a shrug.

“What about you?” Alec challenged. “If you’ve been in love so many times, isn’t there just as much chance that you’d be the one having to make that choice?”

“No,” Magnus said. “I haven’t loved anyone in nearly a hundred years, not like that.” No need to mention that he didn’t plan on actually getting married, or that Alec himself was the only person who’d made him feel anything in all that time.

“Then maybe the Seelie Queen was right,” Alec said with a sad smile. “Marrying for love is not something that has ever been an option for me, so maybe we really are a perfect match.” He looked down at his drink. “Except for the part where you’re trying to talk me out of marrying you.”

“Alexander…” Magnus didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d hoped. He’d been too obvious in his intent, and now he’d given Alec entirely the wrong impression.

“I guess I’m not what you expected,” Alec continued. “And I get that. You’re not what I expected, either, but…but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

“Look, I know you have some kind of history with my parents,” he continued. “I don’t know what happened between you, and I don’t expect you to tell me, but if that’s what this is about—”

“No,” Magnus cut in. “Alexander, no, this isn’t about your parents. I’m a warlock. I _know_ better than to judge a person on who their parents are. This is between you and me.”

Alec wilted, and Magnus realized that, once again, he’d said entirely the wrong thing. He wished Alec would look at him.

“I think you’re right that we could work well together,” Magnus said, searching for the right words to say what he needed to without revealing too much of himself. “But this marriage is a disaster waiting to happen, as tied up as it is in Shadow World politics. And I don’t want that to get in the way of what we could do together. What we could be.”

Alec looked up, finally, and Magnus could see wariness in his eyes. “Why didn’t you object to me when you had the chance? You and the other Downworld leaders could have rejected me. The Clave would have chosen someone else for you.”

It was all Magnus could do not to break out into hysterical laughter. Now that would have been an even bigger disaster. As much as he didn’t want to marry Alec for the sake of the Accords, it was nothing compared to how little he wanted to be married off to some other Shadowhunter. Or how little he wanted to see Alec married to someone else for the sake of politics.

Magnus realized, with a sudden, startling clarity, that somewhere along the line, he’d already unconsciously decided that if he couldn’t talk Alec out of withdrawing from this marriage, Magnus was going to go through with it.

“Trust,” Magnus answered, not quite able to control the tremor in his voice, “makes you do strange things.”

Alec studied him for a long moment, then said, “Can I ask you something?”

Magnus had a terrible suspicion that he knew what Alec was going to ask, and he wasn’t ready to explain about his split-second decision during the meeting with the Clave, so instead of letting Alec ask the question, he just started talking. After all, if Alec never asked the question and Magnus didn’t say anything actually untrue, then it wasn’t a lie and he didn’t have to feel bad about it.

“The Spiral Council impressed upon me how meaningful it would be to have someone with my position and reputation give the revised Accords their full support,” Magnus said. “As skeptical as I am that the Clave will ever truly see Downworlders as equals, it would be a disaster if the Accords fell apart.”

“That’s good to know,” Alec said, “but that’s not what I was going to ask.”

“I apologize for presuming,” Magnus said. “Ask away.”

Alec ran his tongue along his lower lip, a nervous gesture that nonetheless had Magnus’s thoughts spinning off in a direction that wasn’t at all helpful at the moment.

“Before,” Alec said, “why did you invite me for drinks?”

Magnus blinked. That wasn’t even on the list of questions he might have been expecting. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“Not to me,” Alec told him.

Magnus suddenly found his drink very interesting to look at. “I wanted to spend more time with you.”

“Why?” There was genuine confusion in Alec’s voice.

Magnus sipped his drink, considering his answer. “For nearly a century, I closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone, man or woman.” He looked up at Alec through his eyelashes. “You’ve unlocked something in me.”

Alec stared. “I don’t— Magnus, I—”

Magnus shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. You asked a question, and I answered it. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“What about living arrangements?” Alec asked suddenly.

Magnus raised his eyebrows, mind struggling to catch up with the sudden change in topic. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“After the wedding,” Alec explained. “I can’t invite you to live at the Institute. Accords or not, I can’t imagine the Clave accepting that. But we should live together if we’re going to do this right, at least some of the time. Obviously, I’ll need to stay at the Institute sometimes, because that’s just how these things work, but. Maybe we should think about getting a place together? For appearances sake.”

“I take it my attempts to talk you out of getting married haven’t been very effective,” Magnus said dryly.

Alec shrugged. “Have you even managed to convince yourself?”

It was far too perceptive a question, and Magnus laughed despite himself. “If you decide to marry me,” Magnus said, “you can have my guest room.”

“Okay,” Alec agreed. “That seems like a reasonable choice, if you don’t mind me invading your space like that.”

“I mind it far less than I mind the thought of abandoning my loft,” Magnus told him.

Alec nodded in understanding. “I should probably go,” he said. “I’ve taken up too much of your time already.”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I minded you taking up my time,” Magnus said. “Stay for one more drink?”

Alec shook his head. “I want to. But there are things I need to take care of at the Institute, and I can’t do that if I have another drink.”

“I suppose I can’t fault you for being responsible,” Magnus said with an exaggerated sigh. “At least let me see you out.”

They moved toward the door, but Alec stopped in the entryway. “I’m not going to change my mind. My reasons for doing this might be different than yours, but they aren’t going to go away just because you have doubts about the Accords.”

“You say that now,” Magnus said, “but just wait until we get into planning this wedding. I imagine even that will be a trial with the Clave involved.”

Alec’s lips twitched in almost the semblance of a smile. “I’m less worried about the Clave than I am my sister. She takes parties very seriously.”

“As do I, Alexander,” Magnus said. “Perhaps between the two of us, Isabelle and I are a match for the Clave.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Alec told him. And then, more softly, “And if you and Iz make that great a team, imagine what you and I can do.”

Magnus found he didn’t have an answer to that.

When Alec returned to the Institute, half-anxious and half-giddy from his talk with Magnus, Jace was waiting for him.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Don’t tell me that little redheaded mundane you picked up is making trouble.”

“Clary’s still asleep,” Jace told him, “and you know I had no choice but to bring her back here. She’s nephilim, Alec, even if she’s not a Shadowhunter. She wouldn’t be able to bear a rune otherwise.”

“So you’ve said,” Alec said. “If it’s not the mundie, then what’s wrong?”

“Maybe nothing,” Jace said. “Maryse and Robert left word that they wanted to speak with you in the office as soon as you got back.”

“They say why?” He was in no way prepared for a rehash of the conversation they’d already had about his impending nuptials.

Jace shook his head. “Just that they’re being recalled to Alicante, and they need to speak with you before they leave.”

Alec felt only a little bad at his relief that he would finally have his Institute back. He missed his parents when they were away, but he didn’t miss the way they treated him like he was still a child when they were here.

The door to his office was closed when he arrived, so Alec knocked, even as he felt a stab of irritation at needing to. Just one more conversation, he reminded himself, and they’d be out of his hair.

Robert opened the door, a faint frown on his face that had Alec immediately on edge.

“Come in, son,” he said.

Alec was further discomfited when he found his mother seated on one of the armchairs in the middle of the room and his father moved to join her there. Normally, one of them would be sitting behind the desk.

“Jace said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes,” Maryse said. “Have a seat, Alec.”

Alec took one of the remaining seats, facing his parents. “If this about the wedding—” he began.

“It’s not,” Robert interrupted. “At least, not directly, although I suspect that had something to do with the Council’s decision.”

The wariness in Alec’s belly had jumped up to full alarm by this point. “What decision?”

“They’re officially making you Head of the Institute,” Maryse said matter-of-factly.

“They’re—” Alec blinked. “After all this time? Why? Not that I’m complaining,” he hastened to add, “but what about you and Dad?”

“I've been offered a position teaching at the Academy,” Robert said. “One that I’ve decided to accept.”

“And Mom?”

“I already have a job in Alicante,” Maryse said.

“Right,” Alec said. “The secret job you've been pretending not to have for years.”

Maryse sighed. “Things are different now. I wish they weren’t, but with you as Head of the Institute and some things that have recently come to light, we can’t keep you safe from this any longer.”

“Keep me _safe_?” Alec didn’t know whether to be astonished or angry. “You _left_. And I was an adult when you did, but Jace and Izzy weren’t. You don’t keep your children safe by abandoning them.”

“It was the only way,” Maryse told him. “You were safer here, even without us to watch over you, than you would have been if we hadn’t gone to Idris. The situation in Alicante was— The entire Clave was in danger.”

“Whatever it is you need to say,” Alec said, “just tell me.”

“What we’re about to tell you stays in this room,” Robert began. “The information is too dangerous to get out, and we don’t know who we can trust.”

Alec shook his head. “That doesn’t work for me. You either trust me with this, or you don’t. If you’re going to give me information that’s important to running this Institute, then you need to trust me to know who to tell and who not to.”

His parents exchanged a glance, seeming to speak with their eyes. Finally, Maryse shook her head and looked away.

Robert looked at Alec. “Valentine Morgenstern is alive. He’s been working to rebuild the Circle for at least five years.”

“Wait,” Alec said. “Is that why the two of you were recalled to Idris after Consul Dieudonné died? Did the Circle kill him?”

Maryse took a deep breath, steeling herself, then turned back to her son. “No,” she said. “Malachi Dieudonné was part of the Circle. He was working with Valentine. Your father and I uncovered his plot and stopped him.”

Alec stared, having trouble taking this all in. “How?” he asked. “How is it possible that the former Consul was part of the Circle, and this is the first I’ve heard of it? It seems like that’s the kind of thing people would talk about, especially if he was executed for it.”

“You have to understand,” Maryse said, “we didn’t know who we could trust. Even now, we aren’t certain how far Valentine’s reach goes. When we uncovered Malachi’s betrayal, we went to the people on the Council we knew we could trust.”

“Our family has been close with the Penhallows for generations,” Robert said, “and your mother and Jia were always close. So that was one person we knew we could trust.”

“And Imogen Herondale’s hatred for the Circle is legendary,” Maryse added. “Valentine had her son killed, so we knew that she would never work with him. But that was it. Out of the entire Council, Imogen and Jia were the only two we could be absolutely certain weren’t working with Valentine, and with the discovery of Malachi’s betrayal, we were very cautious.”

“So, what?” Alec said. “The four of you got together and rooted out the Circle members on the Council?” He was having trouble believing what he was hearing. “How would you even begin to do that?”

Maryse shook her head. “We didn’t have the means to determine who on the Council was working for Valentine, not with Malachi still in charge. It isn’t as simple as that, you have to understand. We were just two Heads of Institute, and we were accusing the Consul of treason.”

“Still,” Alec said, “you were Heads of Institute. Surely, that carries some weight.”

Once again, his parents shared a look.

“We weren’t exactly in high standing in Idris at the time,” Robert said. “We still aren’t, to be frank, but it’s better now that we’ve been working with Consul Penhallow for the past several years. Still, it’s a tenuous thing, and you need to understand why.”

Robert’s face was grave as he continued. “Your mother and I were given the New York Institute under unusual circumstances. It was a reward of sorts for doing our jobs, but it was also an effective banishment from Idris.”

“Banishment?” Alec asked, shocked. “What for?”

“For being members of the Circle,” Maryse answered. “And for recruiting people to Valentine’s cause.”

Alec gasped in a deep breath. It wasn’t possible. He knew his parents could be harsh, and their distaste for Downworlders was obvious even when they made an attempt to hide it, but the Circle wanted to eliminate the entire Downworld, to wipe every vampire, werewolf, warlock, and seelie from existence. That went beyond mere dislike. That was genocide.

“We left, obviously,” Maryse added quickly. “The reason we weren’t executed or imprisoned is that we turned on Valentine and the Circle, and helped the Council take them down.”

Alec stared, horrified. “That— That doesn’t make up for being a part of the Circle in the first place,” he told them. “What Valentine and his followers tried to do was horrific. I can’t believe you were a part of it, even for a short time.”

“Valentine didn’t start out a fanatic,” Robert insisted. “At first, his goals were noble. He wanted to protect Shadowhunters and mundanes from the demonic influence among Downworlders.”

“We did it because we wanted to make the world a better place,” Maryse said. “For our family. For our children.”

Alec shook his head. “No. No, you don’t get to say you did this for us. Your sins are your own. You leave us out of it.”

“Alec—” Maryse started, but Alec cut her off.

“That’s enough. You must have a reason for telling me all this, so get to the point. You aren’t going to be able to justify your involvement with the Circle to me. So, Valentine Morgenstern is still alive, the Circle is still alive and well, and you were involved in some conspiracy to take down the former Consul.

“Wait,” Alec realized. “Did you have something to do with Consul Dieudonné’s death?”

“That’s not important right now,” Maryse said, as good as confirming it. “What’s important is that I’ve been helping Consul Penhallow track the Circle’s movements for years, and I have it from several sources that Valentine now believes the Mortal Cup is somewhere in New York.”

Alec rubbed a hand down his face. “So, you’re telling me that there are going to be Circle members around New York.”

“Around New York, and possibly even already within this Institute,” Robert said.

“We didn’t want to get you involved in this, Alec,” Maryse told him, “but we couldn’t let you take over as Head of the Institute without telling you now that we know Valentine is sending people here to look for the Mortal Cup.”

“All right,” Alec said, needing to focus on what needed to be done and not on his parents’ confession. “Do you know anything about where the Circle thinks the Mortal Cup might be?”

Maryse shook her head. “No. Some of my sources aren’t even convinced the Cup itself is in New York. They think maybe Valentine is only looking for a person who knows the Cup’s location.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does,” Alec said. Which should be fun on top of everything else he’d been dealing with.

“That would be for the best,” Robert told him, “and if you can keep an eye out for Circle activity in the area and report back to us, too, that would be a great help.”

“To you,” Alec said flatly. “Not to the Council.”

Maryse shook her head. “We still aren’t certain that there are no Circle members on the Council, and we can’t risk Valentine finding out that we have eyes on him. You’ll need to send your reports directly to the two of us, and to Consul Penhallow.”

“Not Inquisitor Herondale?” Alec asked. “Isn’t she a part of this, too?”

“Imogen can be...” Maryse tilted her head, considering her words, “a bit intense when it comes to matters involved Valentine and the Circle. Consul Penhallow has found it’s better to loop her in to information only when we have concrete facts and a course of action planned.”

“Great,” Alec said. “You don’t just want me to keep secrets from the Council, but from the people who are helping you keep your secrets.” He shook his head in exhaustion. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“There is one more thing,” Robert said. “Valentine’s return and Consul Dieudonné’s betrayal are the reason we pushed for updating the Accords. The four of us spoke about it at length and agreed that the best way to keep from having to face both the Circle and a Downworld revolt at the same time, which there undoubtedly would be if the Downworlders ever found out about the extent to which the Circle has managed to infiltrate the governing body of the Clave, was to solidify our relationship with the Downworld as best as possible.”

“The marriage written into the Accords,” Alec said, understanding dawning. “That’s why you were both so outspoken in your support of it.”

Robert nodded. “And now that Valentine is making a move to find the Mortal Cup, finalizing the new Accords is more important than ever. Which is why the Consul has convinced the Council that your marriage should take place next week, before the signing of the revised Accords.”

“Next _week_?” For the first time since he entered the office, Alec felt something besides anger. He couldn’t get married in a week. He’d barely even gotten used to the idea that he was supposed to marry Magnus, although admittedly, talking to Magnus had helped. There was something about having someone try to talk him out of a thing that made it so much easier for Alec to recognize why he wanted to do it. Still, a week was far too soon. “I thought we’d have more time. A month or two, at least.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re planning an actual wedding,” Maryse said with a wave of her hand. “This is a purely political transaction. It just needs to be a good show so that the Accords are solid once they’re signed.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? That this was a political transaction, but it was with Magnus, and Magnus had said...

“Fine,” Alec said. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” Robert answered. “But if you want to talk more about any of this—”

“I don’t,” Alec said, moving to his desk. “If you don’t mind, I have things to do, and I remember Jace saying something about the two of you needing to get back to Alicante.”

Maryse sighed. “All right, Alec. But we will talk about this again when you’re ready.”

“Don’t count on that being any time soon.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Knock knock, big brother,” Izzy said, opening the door to Alec’s office. 

Since their parents’ departure hours earlier, Alec had hidden himself in his office, citing the need to fill out all the paperwork required to officially install him as Head of the Institute and to plan a wedding that was apparently happening in less than a week. In reality, he’d gotten almost no paperwork done, as lost in thought as he was, and he’d only considered and then immediately abandoned the idea of texting Magnus about the wedding planning at least a dozen times.

“Come in,” Alec said, sounding just as exhausted as he felt. 

“I didn’t realize paperwork could be quite so taxing,” Izzy said, entering the office and shutting the door behind her. “I thought you’d be happy to finally have some recognition that you’ve been running this place for years. Or is this just what wedding planning does to you?” 

“I wish that’s all it was.” It wasn’t a decision he needed to think about, not really. There were two people in the Institute he knew without question weren’t working for Valentine, and Jace was too caught up in his new obsession with the redheaded mundane for Alec to trust his judgment at the moment.

“That sounds ominous,” Izzy said, perching on the edge of his desk. “What’s up?”

“Valentine Morgenstern is alive and searching for the Mortal Cup in New York. The Consul believes the Circle may have already infiltrated the Institute.” He considered telling her the rest, about Consul Dieudonné and about their parents, but he was still too angry to talk about it. “We need to keep that last part quiet, because I don’t know who we can trust, but we have to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does.”

“Then we’d better get to work,” Izzy said. “Do you think this could have anything to do with the Circle members who came after Clary Fray?”

Alec wanted to say no, because the last thing he needed was for Jace to think he’d done the right thing in bringing the girl to the Institute without even consulting Alec first. “I don’t know,” he said instead. “It would be a pretty big coincidence if they’re unrelated, though.”

“Then we should talk to Clary,” Izzy said. “She just woke up. That’s what I was coming to tell you. Jace is with her.” 

“What has she said?” Alec demanded. “If she is involved, it’s possible she’s a spy for Valentine.”

“That would be a really complicated way to send a spy,” Izzy pointed out. “And I doubt she learned much while she was unconscious.”

“She still showed up out of nowhere right when we got word the Circle is in New York,” Alec said. “And she was supposedly raised as a mundane, but she can bear runes and use seraph blades? That’s all kinds of suspicious. There’s no such thing as new Shadowhunters.”

“Maybe there is now,” Izzy said with a shrug.

“All right, let’s find out what this not-a-mundane has to say for herself.”

They found Jace and Clary Fray along with yet another mundane in the ops center. 

“Why is there another mundane in my Institute?” Alec demanded. 

“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners,” Izzy said, stepping forward. “This is Alec.” She held out her hand to the new mundane. “And I’m Isabelle.”

“Lewis,” the mundane said, looking more than a little dazed. “Simon, Simon Lewis. Two first names. Am I still talking?” 

“Unfortunately for all of us, yes,” Alec said. He looked at Jace. “What’s going on here?” 

“There was a Circle member outside looking for Clary,” Jace explained, “and the mundane saw. He’s her friend, or whatever.” 

“Of course there was,” Alec muttered. If the girl was a Circle spy, this was a good way for Valentine to give her cover, pretending the Circle was after her. If she wasn’t, though, that meant the Circle really did want her, and if the Circle wanted her, then Alec was going to do everything in his power to keep them from getting her. And then there was the matter of what his parents said about Circle members looking in New York for someone who knew the location of the Mortal Cup. 

“I need to find my mother,” Clary said. “Jace said you guys could help me.” 

“If the Circle really is hunting you,” Alec said, “then our first priority is keeping you out of their hands. Do you know why they’re after you?” 

“The thing at our apartment, the demon, it said something about a cup?” Clary answered. “But I don’t know anything about any cup.” 

Dammit, dammit, dammit. But this put them one step ahead of Valentine, at least, because they had Clary, and that meant the Circle didn’t. Assuming she was telling the truth.

“And what is this Circle you all keep talking about?” Clary continued. “Why would they want to take my mom?”

“A group of rogue Shadowhunters,” Jace explained. “Almost twenty years ago, a man named Valentine Morgenstern led the Circle in an Uprising to stop the signing of the Accords between the Clave and the Downworld.”

“The Circle didn’t just want to stop the Accords,” Alec added. “They wanted to wipe out the entire Downworld.”

“That’s horrible,” Clary said, “but I still don’t understand what that has to do with me or my mom.”

“The Circle is looking for the Mortal Cup,” Alec said. “And if what that demon said is anything to go by, it sounds like they think you know where it is.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Clary said. “I don’t even know what a Mortal Cup _is_ , let alone where to find it. Why would the Circle think I do?”

“That’s what we have to figure out,” Izzy said, putting a hand on Clary’s shoulder. “But if the Circle wants you and your mom, then we’re going to keep you safe and get her back.”

“I had a dream about my mother,” Clary said, as if suddenly remembering. “But I don’t know if it was an actual dream, or... I have dreams sometimes that I think might actually be memories. I’ve had a bunch recently, some of them with a man who my mother tells to take my memories. And this was like that, but different. I think... I know this sounds crazy, but I think maybe I was seeing my mom as she is now. She was asleep, and there was a man I didn’t recognize. And Dot was there, but she was in chains, and I think she and my mom are in serious trouble. You have to help me find them.” 

“A man taking your memories could have been a warlock,” Jace suggested. “They have spells that can take a person’s memories. That might be somewhere to start.” 

“For that, we’d have to find the warlock who took her memories,” Alec pointed out. “And if the Circle is looking for her, it could be dangerous to go looking. Especially if the Circle is somehow involved in the recent warlock disappearances.” 

“Maybe another warlock could at least tell if it was a warlock who took Clary’s memories,” Izzy said, looking at Alec. “You could ask Magnus.” 

“I’m not going to just start asking Magnus for favors,” Alec said. “That would set a bad precedent.” 

“Wait, Magnus?” Clary said. “In my dream, my mom called the man who took my memories Magnus.” 

Izzy gave Alec a long look, as if to say I told you so. 

“Fine,” Alec said. “I’ll talk to Magnus and see if he’s willing to help. But not at,” he checked the time on the nearest screen, “four-thirty in the morning.” 

“But who _is_ Magnus?” Clary wanted to know. 

“Magnus Bane is the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” Alec said, at the same time Izzy said, “Alec’s fiancé.” 

Alec shot his sister a fierce glare. 

“Oh,” Clary said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Um, congratulations?” she offered Alec. 

“I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep,” Alec said, ignoring her. “You two, keep the redhead out of trouble and inside the Institute.” He looked at the other mundane. “And do something about that one, while you’re at it.”

Magnus had been surprised but not displeased by the text that he’d gotten a few hours earlier— _I need to see you, are you busy?_ He had, of course, been busy, as he always was these days, but he was able to finish up what he was doing sooner than he’d anticipated, giving him nearly two hours to wait back at the loft to wonder what Alexander wanted.

It was probably about the drastically shortened timeline for the wedding. Magnus hadn’t been pleased at all when he’d received a fire message about _that_ at some ungodly hour of the morning. And what a way to be woken up. He both hoped and feared that with the wedding suddenly impending, Alexander was having second thoughts. It would, of course, cause a bit of a scandal, and might delay the signing of the Accords if one of them were to pull out now, but Magnus was fairly confident that he could smooth things over with the Clave. 

He hated that a part of him was disappointed by the prospect.

Magnus was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when a knock came at the door. He took a moment to straighten his waistcoat before opening the door wide.

“Alexander!” he greeted with a wide smile. Then he took in fact that Alec was very much not alone, and his smile faded into a confused frown. “And friends. This is a surprise.” He stepped back into the loft, gesturing the group inside.

A short, redheaded girl stopped in front of him and glared up into his face. “So you’re the one who stole my memories.”

“Who—” Magnus started, and then recognition hit him. She was older than last time he’d seen her, but there was no mistaking that face, especially not with her chin raised in defiance in a posture so like her mother’s it was uncanny. “Clary Fairchild,” he said. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”

“Clary _Fray,_ ” Clary corrected, and Magnus simply nodded. Jocelyn’s secrets weren’t his to tell.

“Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression when I texted,” Alec said. “We’re here about Clary’s memories. We have reason to believe she might know where the Mortal Cup is, and the Circle is hunting both Clary and the Cup.”

“I had heard something to that effect,” Magnus said. “I hadn’t realized you were involved, Alexander.”

“Can you two catch up later?” Clary asked. “I need my memories back so I can find my mother.” She turned to Magnus. “What will it take for you to give them back to me?”

“I wish I could retrieve your memories,” Magnus said carefully, “but I no longer have them.”

“What?” Clary demanded. “Where are they?”

“I fed them to a memory demon for safekeeping,” Magnus explained.

“And why the hell would you do that?” Jace demanded angrily.

“To protect Clary and the Cup,” Magnus said with forced patience. “If the Circle ever captured me, they could torture Clary’s memories out of me.”

“And if you give them back to her, they can torture them out of her,” Alec said. “It wasn’t a bad plan, but now we need to know where the Cup is so we can keep it safe. So, is there a way to get the memories back?”

“We could summon the demon I fed them to,” Magnus said, “but it would be dangerous. Summoning such a powerful demon could be lethal.”

“I’ll do anything to save my mother,” Clary broke in. “Where is the demon?”

Magnus regarded her for a long moment. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, and he in no way liked the idea of handing the Mortal Cup back to the Clave, but if there was any Shadowhunter he was willing to trust with it, it was Alec, and he couldn’t find it in his heart to deny Clary’s desperate request. He knew what it was like to lose a mother, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“Get your team ready,” he told Alec, then turned to Clary. “Come with me.”

They could use the guest room for the summoning. His office might be better equipped, but Magnus had already started to clear out the guest room in case Alec really did move in, so the space was relatively empty, while his office was most decidedly not.

“A lot of people want the Mortal Cup,” Magnus said as he led Clary into the guest room. Once he was sure the Shadowhunters weren’t paying attention to the conversation, he added, “Don’t trust anyone, especially not the Clave.”

Clary looked at him in surprise. “Don’t trust the Clave? I thought you and Alec were—”

“Alexander is not the Clave,” Magnus interrupted her, and he wondered when exactly he’d come to that conclusion. “But just because I trust him doesn’t mean that you should.”

Clary considered that. “Then why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” he told her. “Only trust yourself.”

“I don’t understand you,” she said, shaking her head. “You tell me not to trust anyone but myself, but you admit to trusting Alec. If it’s so dangerous for me to trust anyone, wouldn’t the same be true of you? You helped my mother hide the Mortal Cup by taking my memories.”

“Who I do and don’t trust isn’t your concern,” Magnus told her. He picked up the set of chalks he used for drawing sigils and handed it to her. “Let’s get to work.”

Summoning the demon that had Clary’s memories proved both easier and more difficult than Alec expected. Easier, because the danger Magnus had warned of never materialized. More difficult because each of them had to give up a memory of the person they loved most, and the feeling of having given up something that precious but not being able to remember _what_ he’d given up was distinctly unpleasant. Not to mention that the entire process left Clary delirious and barely conscious. 

Alec watched Jace hover over Clary on the couch, reflecting on how much more difficult this would have been a year or two earlier. Before he’d taken over the day-to-day operations of running the Institute, before he and Izzy had really grasped that their parents weren’t coming back from Idris, at least not in any kind of permanent sense, he’d thought he was in love with Jace. It had been easy to believe. Jace had been—still was—beautiful and intense and a highly competent Shadowhunter. It was easy to mistake an adolescent crush for love, especially with how close the two of them became as they trained to become parabatai. But then Alec’s parents had gone away, and suddenly he found himself with the responsibility of running an Institute, and effectively acting as a parent figure to Izzy, and he was able to start seeing his infatuation for what it was.

His younger self would have no doubt been jealous of the attention Jace paid to Clary. Now, at least, he only had to worry about his parabatai’s obvious feelings for a girl who was at best someone being hunted by the Circle. He didn’t want to think about what it would do to Jace if Clary turned out to be a Circle spy.

He felt Magnus step up beside him. “You should sit down while Clary recovers from having all those memories dumped back in her mind,” Magnus said. “A summoning like that can take a lot out of you.” 

“Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?” Alec asked, turning to look at him. Magnus somehow didn’t look nearly as drained as the rest of them. It was possible he really was less tired, but Alec suspected it was just his uncanny and deeply unfair ability to look good in any situation. 

“I do this kind of thing all the time,” Magnus said with a shrug. “The rest of you aren’t used to it.” 

“I’ll sit down if you do,” Alec offered. 

“Fine,” Magnus said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “If you insist.” 

They made their way over to two empty armchairs in the living room, seated close to one another. Izzy was already seated in one of the other chairs, closer to the couch. 

“This gives us the opportunity to talk about the wedding, anyway,” Magnus said as they sat down. 

“Do we have to?” Alec asked with a pained face. “I think I’m suddenly feeling that exhaustion you were talking about a minute ago.” 

“Alec spent half of last night looking over the Clave’s proposals for the wedding,” Izzy chimed in. It wasn’t exactly true, but he had looked them over briefly, and it _felt_ like he’d done it for hours. “You should have seen his face.” 

“Always a lovely sight,” Magnus said, and Alec was too tired to fight the flush in his cheeks. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Alec asked, hoping to change the subject from his looks. If it meant talking about the wedding, so be it. 

“Mostly that it’s happening so soon,” Magnus said. “When you contacted me earlier, I assumed that’s what you wanted to see me about.” 

“I would have contacted you about that,” Alec said, “but I got a little distracted by Clary Fray.” 

“Fairchild,” Magnus corrected. “She’ll remember this now, I’m sure, but her name is Clary Fairchild. Her mother is Jocelyn Fairchild.” 

“Fairchild is a Shadowhunter name,” Izzy said, and she shot Alec a smug glance. 

“Indeed, it is,” Magnus agreed. “Jocelyn was a Shadowhunter. Is a Shadowhunter. She was unfortunate enough to at one time be married to Valentine Morgenstern, and when things got bad during the Uprising, she left him and went into hiding. Even after the Circle was vanquished, she stayed hidden. I don’t think she was ever as confident in Valentine’s death as the Clave was.”

“Even if she thought he was probably dead, she might have been afraid at even a chance he wasn’t,” Izzy said. “If Jocelyn knows where the Mortal Cup is, that could be why she never came out of hiding.” 

“Or perhaps she merely wanted to protect her daughter,” Magnus said. “I’m not sure having me take Clary’s memories was the best way to do that, but Jocelyn did seem very concerned for the girl’s safety when she brought her to me.” 

“We’d better hope Jocelyn doesn’t know where the Cup is,” Alec said, “because from what Clary saw in her vision, it sounds an awful lot like the Circle has her.” 

Magnus frowned. “Clary’s vision? What vision?” 

Alec and Izzy gave him a quick rundown of what Clary had told them back at the Institute about her dream that didn’t seem like a dream. 

“And she saw Dorothea with them as well?” he asked. “This is bad. Dot stayed with Jocelyn and Clary to protect them. If she’s been taken, as well, then we really are all that’s left to protect Clary from the Circle.” 

“Clary did say Jocelyn was sleeping in her vision, though,” Izzy reminded him. “And it seemed like the man was trying to wake her up. Maybe she did something to herself, to keep the Circle from being able to force her to reveal the location of the Cup.” 

“Perhaps,” Magnus said. “If so, let’s hope it was nothing permanent. I’d hate to think Clary has gone through all of this to find her mother only for her mother to be unreachable when we finally do find her.”

“I don't realize this would hurt so much.” Clary’s voice, soft and trembling from where she lay on the couch, was more unsure than Alec had ever heard it. “There's so much here, and it's so hard to sort through it all.”

“Take it easy, Biscuit,” Magnus told her, rising to join Jace by the couch. “Don't push yourself. It's good that you're as lucid as you are so quickly. The rest will come in time.”

“I can't—” Clary shook her head. “I can’t remember anything about the Mortal Cup. I'm trying to remember, anything at all my mom said about a cup, but I'm coming up blank.”

“Take your time,” Jace told her.

“I don't have time!” Clary snapped. “I have to find my mother before something terrible happens to her!”

Jace made a placating gesture, but Alec spoke before he could say anything.

“What about Valentine or the Circle? Do you have any memories of your mother mentioning them?”

“I think,” Clary said slowly. “I think she did mention Valentine. More than once. Never when she knew I could hear, but I remember her talking to Dot. Not enough that I could understand. I wasn't paying attention and I didn't realize it was important. But there was another time when she was talking to Luke, and she thought I was asleep and—” She stopped, suddenly pale. “Oh no. No no no.”

“Clary what is it?” Jace asked, resting a hand on her arm.

“It's all right, Biscuit,” Magnus soothed. “Tell us what you remember.”

“It's Valentine,” she whispered, looking up at Jace as though he could fix whatever horror she'd discovered in her own memories. “He's my father.”

Clary looked absolutely crushed, but Magnus nodded like he wasn't surprised by this information. Which, maybe he wasn't, Alec reflected. If he'd known this whole time Jocelyn had been married to Valentine, maybe he'd already suspected Clary was Valentine's daughter.

Alec's mind was racing. Clary being Valentine's daughter should have made it more likely she was a Circle spy, but Magnus corroborated her story of lost memories, and Alec didn't believe for a second that _Magnus_ was working with Valentine. Which meant that the Circle really was hunting Clary, even though it turned out she didn't know anything about the Mortal Cup. But maybe that didn't matter to Valentine. Maybe he wanted his daughter as much as he wanted the Cup.

“There's something else,” Clary said. “Another time I remember Mom talking to Dot about Valentine. Dot said she couldn't make the potion Mom wanted, that it wasn't her area of expertise, and Mom said she needed it in case Valentine found us.”

“Jocelyn never asked me for any potion,” Magnus said, frowning.

“Dot said she knew someone who could help, and she mentioned a name.” Clary’s brow creased as she fought to remember. “Ragnor Fell.”

“Ragnor Fell?” Magnus asked, looking affronted. “He’ll ignore my invitations for over a decade, but he'll do jobs for a Shadowhunter? I see how it is.”

“I don't really think that's the most important thing here,” Jace commented.

Magnus threw him a withering look. “Which just goes to show how little you know. But I'll contact Ragnor and see if he made a potion for Jocelyn. If it was some kind of protection against Valentine or the Circle, it might give us some clue to finding her or the Mortal Cup.”

“Or if we're lucky, both,” Izzy added.

“We can't count on luck,” Alec said. “Now that we know who Clary's mother is, we might be able to find something useful in the Clave's files.” Or maybe his parents would know something about Jocelyn that could help find her. He wasn't ready to talk to them again, but if they'd been in the Circle, surely they'd have known Valentine's wife.

“And Clary will be safer back at the Institute,” Jace said, earning himself a dirty look from Magnus. 

Privately, Alec agreed, but he wasn't about to say it out loud.

“Thank you for your help,” he told Magnus instead. “We wouldn't have Clary’s memories without you.”

“I'd do a great deal more if it meant keeping the Mortal Cup out of the Circle's hands,” Magnus said.

“If you're not too tired from the summoning, would you make us a portal back to the Institute?” Alec asked. “Under the circumstances, it's the safest way to get Clary there.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, “a little summoning of a greater demon isn't enough to keep me from creating a portal.”

“We appreciate it,” Alec said. “And if you send your bill directly to me, I'll see that it gets paid. I'd rather keep this quiet for now.”

“Of course,” Magus said, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world that Alec was keeping secrets from other Shadowhunters at his own Institute. “And I'll contact you as soon as I've had a chance to talk to Ragnor.” He paused, eyes flickering away for just a moment in what Alec almost thought might be nervousness. “And maybe we can discuss the wedding then?”

“Yeah,” Alec agreed. “If we don't talk about it, then the whole thing is just going to be what the Council wants, and I doubt either of us wants them writing our wedding vows.”

Magnus made an exaggerated wince, but he seemed more relaxed. “I shudder to imagine what they might include.”

After portaling back to the Institute, Alec helped Jace get Clary set up in one of the empty rooms. If she was going to be staying at the Institute for a while, it only made sense that she have her own room. Jace offered to stay with her while she continued recovering from having her memories returned, and Alec couldn't think of any reason to tell him not to that wouldn't start a fight, so he agreed.

When he returned to his office, Alec was unsurprised to find Izzy leaning against his desk. He closed the door behind him.

“Are you convinced yet that she's not a spy?” she asked, tone almost teasing.

“Yes,” Alec said, “but that doesn't mean she's not trouble.”

“Are you talking about the Circle, or the way Jace looks at her?”

“Both,” Alec said, dropping into his favorite chair. “Plus, you know, that whole thing where she's Valentine's daughter.”

“Jace is a big boy,” Izzy said, easily pinpointing what he was most worried about. “He can take care of himself. Besides, you should be happy Jace is interested in someone besides himself for once.”

Alec made a noncommittal noise, not wanting to talk about it any further. Izzy walked over and sat on the arm of his chair, leaning against him in a gesture of support. Alec leaned back, grateful for her presence.

“So,” Izzy said after a few minutes of silence, tapping his leg with the toe of her boot, “Magnus looked nice today.”

“Magnus always looks nice,” Alec said without thinking, then immediately tried to cover it. “I mean, he's very good at dressing himself.”

Izzy burst out laughing. “He's very good at dressing himself, really?” Her laughter faded to a soft smile. “It's okay to think your fiancé is hot, Alec.”

“It's not like that,” he protested, looking away. “This marriage is about the Accords. That doesn't change just because the person I'm marrying is Magnus.”

“Doesn't it?” she asked, and he hated how unsure he was of the honest answer.

“It can't,” he told her. “Whatever is or isn't between me and Magnus, it has to be separate from this marriage. I can't let my feelings jeopardize the Accords.”

Izzy looked like she wanted to argue, but she just leaned over and kissed his temple before standing to leave. “Just don't forget while you're busy doing things for everyone else that it's okay to do things for yourself sometimes.”

Alec didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't even know what it meant to do something for himself anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

It took longer than Magnus would have liked to convince Ragnor to talk to the Shadowhunters. In the end, he had to point out that Ragnor would get to meet Alec (and then presumably tease Magnus mercilessly for the fact that he was still engaged) before he agreed. Still, the several trips Magnus had taken to London to cajole his friend were a great distraction from the wedding planning he and Alec had been trying to do via text, since they were both too busy with other things to meet in person.

One of those other things, in Magnus’s case, being tracking the missing warlocks. With Clary’s vision about the Circle having Dorothea, Magnus had begun to wonder if perhaps the Circle were responsible for the other warlock disappearances, as well. It was hard to know if the MO for Dot’s disappearance were the same, since it was unclear where she’d been taken, exactly, and the Circle had an obvious and clear reason for taking her when they didn’t for the other missing warlocks.

Just like with the other missing warlocks, Magnus could no longer feel Dot’s magic. Which meant that either his friend was dead, or the Circle had found some way of blocking her magic. It was a possibility Magnus had considered with the other missing warlocks, since no bodies had been found, but given that the Circle was involved, it was entirely possible that there were no bodies because those who committed the murders were keeping body parts as trophies. It wouldn’t have been the first time Magnus had seen it happen.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Ragnor complained as they stepped out of a portal in front of the New York Institute. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last set foot in a Shadowhunter Institute? Decades at least. Maybe a century. And now I’m mixed up in Shadowhunter business again, and it’s all because I let you talk me into it.”

“You’re mixed up in Shadowhunter business again because you agreed to brew a potion for Jocelyn Fairchild,” Magnus pointed out. “That was going to come back to bite you in the ass someday with or without my help.”

“I suppose,” Ragnor said with a philosophical shrug. “But she did offer to pay me a great deal of money, and the specifics she wanted for the potion were quite interesting, not something just any warlock could pull off.”

“Ah, so she appealed to your vanity,” Magnus said. “No wonder you couldn’t turn down the job.”

“You’re one to talk about vanity,” Ragnor said. “Do you remember that time in Sicily when—”

“Yes,” Magnus cut him off. “Far more clearly than I want to. Thank you for the reminder. I do not need a play-by-play.”

The one downside to having friends who had known you as long as Ragnor had was that they tended to remember your most embarrassing moments, not to mention bring them up with alarming frequency.

Alexander and Isabelle met the two of them in the entry of the Institute. Magnus hadn’t seen Alec in person since they’d summoned the memory demon, and he was troubled to see that Alec looked even more tired now than he had after the summoning. Magnus wondered if he’d managed to get a single full night of sleep since then.

“Alexander, Isabelle,” Magnus said, “I’d like you to meet my dear friend Ragnor Fell.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Alec said, holding out a hand.

Ragnor shook it, saying, “Indeed. Magnus has told me a great deal about you.”

“You make that sound so ominous,” Izzy said, offering her own hand. “Maybe you and I can swap stories sometime. I can tell you embarrassing things about my brother and you can tell me embarrassing things about Magnus, and we can use them for leverage later.”

Ragnor beamed. “That is quite an offer. You and I should talk.” He leaned toward Magnus and said in a stage whisper, “I think I might get along with this one.”

“Thank you for coming,” Alec said, interrupting Ragnor and Izzy’s plotting. “Clary’s with Jace in the ops center. Still no leads on the Cup or on ways to track Jocelyn, but you said you might have something?”

“I believe so,” Ragnor said, following Alec and Izzy toward the ops center. “The potion I made for Jocelyn is intended to put someone in magically-induced stasis until the spell is removed. I suggested I also make a potion to counteract the one she requested, so she could reverse the effects herself if necessary, but she told me that it was safer not to have something like that on hand and that she or Dorothea would contact me if they ever needed to reverse the effects of the potion.”

“So, you know how to wake my mom up?” asked Clary, who had caught the end of Ragnor’s explanation.

“If Jocelyn is under the effects of the potion I created for her, then yes,” Ragnor said. “Although I never made the counter-potion, as per Jocelyn’s request, I did figure out how it could be done so that I would be able to create it if she ever had the need.”

“That’s great,” Jace said, “but we still need to find Jocelyn and rescue her before we can wake her up.”

“We might be able to help with that, too,” Magnus said.

“Every potion has a magical signature,” Ragnor explained. “A combination of the ingredients used in the potion and the magic provided by the warlock who created it. Most of the time, this isn’t terribly useful, since few potions are truly unique and those of us with enough skill in potion making to actually track a potion's signature tend to brew a great many of them.”

“But the potion Ragnor made for Jocelyn is unique,” Magnus chimed in. “Not only has he never made it before or since, but he developed the formula himself.”

“Which means,” Ragnor said, “that I should be able to track any person who has drunk the potion.”

“We already tried tracking,” Jace said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work. Wherever the Circle is holding Jocelyn, she’s not trackable.”

“Ah, but this isn’t tracking in the technical sense,” Ragnor said. “When you track, you follow the energy signature of the person you’re tracking. In this case, it’s more of finding the resonance of my own energy signature within another person. You can’t block someone from finding the resonance of their own magic the same way you can block someone from tracking another person’s energy.”

Jace stared at him. “I literally have no idea what you just said.”

“But you’re saying you can find my mother,” Clary said. “Right?”

“With time and some effort, yes,” Ragnor said, “as long as she remains under the potion’s influence.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Clary demanded. “In my vision, they were trying to wake Mom. If they succeed, then we’ll lose our best chance of finding her.”

“What we’re waiting for, Biscuit, is to have an actual plan,” Magnus explained gently. “Finding Jocelyn in this way will take a lot of energy, and as a result, it isn’t something that can be repeated quickly. If the Circle isn't keeping Jocelyn in one place—and they’d be stupid to with as many people as are trying to find the Cup—then we don’t want to try to pinpoint Jocelyn’s location until we have a plan for rescuing her.”

“If rescuing her is even our top priority,” Alec said. “We need to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does. Jocelyn is one way to do that and keeping the Circle from torturing the information out of her is important, but it would be even better if we could find the Cup ourselves.”

“How can you say that?” Clary demanded, turning on Alec. “We can’t just leave my mother with those people. Who knows what they’ll do to her? And if she knows the location of your Cup, then rescuing her is our best chance of finding it.”

“I don’t think Alexander is suggesting we leave Jocelyn in the Circle’s hands,” Magnus said. “Just that a rescue is dangerous, and if we fail, we might only make things worse, so we should pursue other avenues of finding the Cup at the same time we work on finding a way to rescue your mother.”

“Exactly,” Alec said.

“Biscuit,” Magnus continued, “can you tell me more about this vision you had of your mother? If we can recreate the circumstances, it might give us the information we need to plan a rescue.”

“There wasn’t much,” Clary said. “Just Mom, asleep and surrounded by a sort of greenish glow. Dot was there, but she didn’t look right. Something about her face was off, but it’s all fuzzy, like a dream. And then there was the man. He was standing over my mom, talking to her, but I can’t remember what he was saying. Or maybe I couldn't hear? And then, he turned to look straight at me. I think he knew I was watching.” She shrugged helplessly. “And then I woke up.”

“What can you tell us about the man?” Ragnor asked. “He could be important.”

Magnus looked at him. “You think he could be Valentine?” It was something he’d wondered since Clary had first mentioned a man in her vision, given Jocelyn’s fear that her husband was still alive.

“I think it’s a distinct possibility,” Ragnor said. “Given what we know about Jocelyn’s disappearance and Clarissa’s parentage.”

“I don’t remember much,” Clary admitted. “I didn’t even see his face until right at the end, just the back of his head. He’s taller than Dot, I remember that.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Alec interjected.

Magnus gave him a sharp look. “Biscuit, do you have any idea what triggered the vision?”

Clary chewed her lip, looking nervous.

“It’s all right,” Jace told her. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

“I think it might have to do with my necklace,” Clary said finally. “When Mom gave it to me, she told me that if I needed her, I should hold it and think of her, and when I woke up from the dream, I’m pretty sure I was holding it.”

“You were,” Izzy told her. “It caught my attention, which is why I didn’t manage to move out of the way before you smacked into me.”

“Right,” Clary said, with a nervous smile. “Did I ever apologize for that?”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Izzy said, waving her off. “You can’t help what you do when you’re asleep, and anyway, I should have been paying better attention.”

“Biscuit, may I see your necklace?” Magnus asked.

Clary nodded, pulling the cord over her head and handing it to him.

Magnus could feel the pulse of the deep purple crystal in his hand, a very familiar sort of magic.

“This is a portal shard,” he announced. “These are rare, and this one doesn’t feel...right, exactly. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think it was from another world, but I can’t imagine where Jocelyn would have gotten her hands on such a thing.”

“Another world?” Clary asked, startled.

“There are many worlds, Biscuit,” Magnus answered distractedly, still wrapped up in examining the portal shard. “Some similar to ours, some quite different. It’s possible for some to travel between them.”

“Travel between the worlds is usually a seelie thing,” Izzy explained. “I don’t know much about it—they’re very secretive—but I’ve overheard some things.”

“It’s possible,” Magnus said slowly, “that if Jocelyn holds another shard of the same portal, the two can act as a sort of viewing portal between Clary and Jocelyn.”

“So I really did see my mother,” Clary said.

“Hold on,” Jace said. “If there are two of these things, and it goes both ways, does that mean that Valentine could be using the other shard to spy on Clary?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Magnus said. “But this shard is tied to Clary. I can’t use it on my own, for example. I expect the other shard is similarly tied to Jocelyn.”

“But a powerful enough warlock might be able to change that,” Ragnor said, “and we know that Valentine has Dorothea.”

Magnus shook his head. “Dot couldn’t do it. There are very few warlocks who could, alone. It would require both immense power and a comprehensive working knowledge of portals.”

“So, you’re saying that _you’re_ the only one who could do it,” Ragnor said, grinning. “What was that you were saying earlier about vanity?”

“I did not ask for commentary,” Magnus said, scowling at his friend. He turned back to the Shadowhunters. “I think it might be best if I held onto this for the time being. I can keep it from being used to spy on us, and Clary and I can work together to do some reconnaissance of Jocelyn’s whereabouts using the portal shard.”

“What if Mom wakes up and needs to get a hold of me?” Clary asked. “Shouldn’t I have the portal shard then?”

“If Jocelyn wakes up while she’s still in the Circle’s custody, we don’t want her contacting you,” Alec said bluntly. “If that happens, the Circle is going to be using everything in their power to get Jocelyn to reveal the location of the Cup, and that includes you. It’s too risky.”

He turned to Magnus. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to keep it?”

Magnus gave him a soft smile. “I appreciate the concern, Alexander, but I won’t be in any danger. I intend to keep this highly warded when we aren’t using it.”

“As long as you’re sure it’s safe,” Alec said. “We could keep it here at the Institute, in a locked vault where there wouldn’t be anything for the Circle to spy on even if they did figure out a way to use it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s entirely unnecessary. And I’d like to take a closer look at the portal shard before Clary starts actively working with it, anyway. The better we know how it works, the better our chances of using it to find the information we need.”

“All right,” Alec agreed. “In the meantime, we’ll keep looking for the Mortal Cup.” He looked at Clary. “If you remember anything at all—”

“I’ll tell you immediately,” Clary finished in a manner that made it clear they’d had this exchange many times already.

“While Magnus is working with the shard, I’ll start gathering the things I need to track Jocelyn’s potion,” Ragnor said. “As well as the ingredients for the counter-potion, as I assume we’ll want to wake her once we’ve rescued her.”

“We can do that together,” Magnus said quickly, ignoring Ragnor’s look of surprise. “If we were able to figure out you were the one who made the potion for Jocelyn, then Valentine could, as well, especially if Dorothea knew.” He ignored the stab of pain at the thought of Dot being tortured at the hands of the Circle, and continued, “You could be a target.”

“I’ve managed to keep myself alive this long, old friend,” Ragnor said dismissively. “I don’t think you need to worry about me.”

Need to or not, Magnus did. With warlocks missing and the Circle taking Dot, it was hard not to be protective of his friends.

“Have you found out anything else about the other missing warlocks?” Izzy asked, following his train of thought.

Magnus shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve shared what little I found with Alexander, and he’s returned the favor, but even between the two of us, there’s just been very little to find.”

“I want to take another look at the Clave files on the missing warlocks,” Alec said. “This time with Dot included. If the other warlocks were taken by the Circle, maybe we’ll find a common thread by including her that we missed before.”

“That’s a good thought,” Magnus said. “I’m hoping that perhaps if Clary can use the portal shard to see Jocelyn’s surroundings, she might be able to find out if the Circle is keeping any of the other missing warlocks there. I know it’s a long shot, but she saw Dot before, so there’s a chance the Circle is keeping warlocks close by, whatever they might be using them for.”

“And if the Circle is keeping the other missing warlocks in the same location they’re keeping Jocelyn and Dot,” Ragnor said, “we might be able to include them in our rescue plan. Depending on how Valentine has them restrained.”

Magnus nodded. “That was my thought, too. If we’re very lucky, we might be able to rescue more than just Jocelyn and Dot.”

“All right,” Alec said, “we’ve all got our assignments. Izzy, I’ll meet you in my office in a few minutes to go over those warlock files. Jace, can you take Clary through some more training with a blade? Her defense is still shaky, and if we’re mounting a rescue, it needs to be solid.”

“You got it,” Jace said, holding out a hand for Clary. She took it and followed him out of the ops center.

“Magnus,” Alec said, softer now. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He glanced at Ragnor. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Fell.”

“Not at all, Mr. Lightwood,” Ragnor said, eyes dancing with amusement at the formality. “I actually haven’t had much chance to visit the New York Institute, and I was hoping to get a better look at some of the architecture. I can meet you outside when you’re done,” he told Magnus. 

“I won’t be long,” Magnus promised. He managed to refrain from telling Ragnor to be careful, but just barely. Obviously, the man wasn’t going to be abducted right outside an Institute full of Shadowhunters, well within range of their security cameras. Just from where he was standing, Magnus could see half the perimeter of the Institute on the screens that lined the room.

Magnus let Alec pull him into an empty corridor just off the ops room. It wasn’t entirely private, but it wasn’t exactly public either.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” Alec told him. “You look tired.”

Magnus chuckled. “Exactly what every man wants to hear from his intended. No,” he held up a hand as Alec opened his mouth, presumably to apologize, “I’m joking, Alexander. I am tired. Between the Circle and trying to track down missing warlocks, not to mention wedding planning, I haven’t had much time to myself lately.”

Alec watched him cautiously. “Well, I apologize for my part in that, for what it’s worth. If there’s anything I can do—”

“If you think you look less tired than I feel, you clearly haven’t stopped to look in a mirror lately,” Magnus told him.

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to comment on my looks, but not for me to comment on yours?” Alec teased.

“You may feel free to comment on my looks as often as you like, providing you limit yourself to compliments.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec said drily. “At least you won’t have to worry about the wedding in a few days,” he added hesitantly.

“I suppose I won’t,” Magnus agreed with forced lightness. “I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered your position on the matter?”

“I’ve reconsidered it a hundred times,” Alec admitted, sagging against the nearest wall, “but I keep coming to the same decision.” He caught Magnus’s eyes, held them in that way only he could. “But I don’t want to force you into anything. If you don’t want to marry me, then just say so.”

Magnus sighed. “You make it sound so easy. Like that wouldn’t cause a million other problems.” He smiled then, despite himself. “I suppose that means we’re getting married in two days.”

Alec relaxed then, for the first time since Magnus had arrived at the Institute. “I suppose we are. At least we’ll have each other to lean on if arguments during the rehearsal tomorrow get too heated.”

“Don’t remind me,” Magnus said. “I genuinely can’t think of anything worse than the prospect of spending an afternoon with a bunch of Clave and Downworld leaders arguing over _my_ wedding.”

“Tell me about it,” Alec agreed. “But, really, you’re all right?” he asked, returning to the original topic of conversation.

“I’m fine, Alexander,” Magnus assured him, and it was almost true. Just knowing that Alec worried about him helped ease some of his stress. “I promise I’ll get some rest after the wedding. And after we find the Mortal Cup and rescue Dorothea and Jocelyn Fairchild,” he added. “And find the other missing warlocks and defeat the Circle.”

“So, you’re not planning to sleep this year, is what you’re saying,” Alec said with a chuckle.

“It feels like that,” Magnus agreed.

Magnus found Ragnor examining the series of flying buttresses on the east side of the Institute.

“Is there something special about these particular buttresses?” Magnus asked. “Or is this just your weird obsession with the things again.”

“They’re slightly uneven on this side,” Ragnor said. “They shouldn’t be, especially since this is a new world building and so can’t be more than a couple centuries old. Sloppy, really.”

“I’m sure the Clave would be happy to receive your critique on their building,” Magnus said drily.

“Just because you’re feeling tetchy doesn’t mean you need to belittle my hobbies,” Ragnor told him. “You’ve been brooding all day. Tell me what’s wrong. Is this about Dorothea?”

“That’s part of it,” Magnus admitted. “And just, everything.” He looked up, trying to find the unevenness in the flying buttresses, but couldn’t. He clearly didn’t have the kind of eye for architecture Ragnor did.

“I’m getting married,” Magnus said finally.

“Oh, are you?” Ragnor asked in mock surprise. “I hadn’t heard.”

“No, I mean I’m actually getting married,” Magnus said. “To Alexander. In two days.”

“There’s still time to get out of it,” Ragnor told him. “I know you. You’ve gotten yourself out of more dire situations with far less time to spare.”

“But I’m not going to,” Magnus said. “Not this time.”

“Ah,” Ragnor said, and really, that summed it up quite nicely didn’t it?

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Magnus admitted. “With any of this. I’m used to being at my best in the middle of a disaster, and here I find myself in the middle of multiple disasters piled on top of each other, and I feel completely off my game.”

Ragnor made a thoughtful noise, then said, “Well I can think of one solution to that.”

“What’s that?” Magnus asked warily.

“Obviously, what you need is a party,” Ragnor said, as though it were a silly thing for Magnus to even ask. “They always cheer you up.”

Magnus frowned. “I’m not sure this is the best time for—”

“No,” Ragnor interrupted. “No arguments. I’m throwing you a bachelor party, and that’s the end of it.”

“A bachelor party? Ragnor, I’m getting married in two days."”

“Then I’ll have to plan quickly,” Ragnor said. “Since I don’t have time to find another venue, we’ll have to use Pandemonium. And I can get Cat to help me send out invitations. She’s so much better at remembering who might currently hate you than I am.”

“I’m really not sure a bachelor party is the best idea,” Magnus said, unconvinced.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not planning it then,” Ragnor told him. “Now, come on. I’ve got too much to do to waste time staring at buttresses all day.”

“That,” Alec said, dropping into the softest chair in his office, “was an actual nightmare.” 

“I don’t know,” Magnus said leaning against the closest bookshelf, “at least we managed to keep that seelie knight from coming to blows with your mother over the symbology of flower arrangements.” 

Alec looked up at him. He suspected Magnus chose leaning over sitting because the leather pants he was wearing were too tight for sitting to be comfortable. Not that Alec had spent the entirety of their wedding rehearsal trying not to stare or anything.

“Considering how I feel about my mother right now, I’m not sure that goes into the plus column,” Alec said. 

“I’m pretty sure having a fight break out at your wedding rehearsal is some sort of terrible omen,” Magnus told him. “It seems like it should be an omen.” 

“If we really want to talk about luck,” Alec said, “I think the biggest win here is that _I_ didn’t hit anyone.” 

Magnus laughed, head tilted back in a way that emphasized the open neckline of his shirt and the several necklaces that drew attention to his well-defined chest. Now that they weren’t surrounded by dignitaries and his entire family, Alec decided it was okay for him to stare just a little. 

“You can see why I had my reservations about a marriage as a means of solidifying the Accords now, though,” Magnus said. “What with the fact that we had to prevent at least three murders just at the rehearsal.” 

“That I can understand,” Alec said. “Obviously, not all the dignitaries are going to get along. That’s why the Clave and the Downworld took time to select their representatives so carefully, to avoid that kind of thing between the two people actually getting married. I spent hours talking to Consul Penhallow and the rest of the Council before they chose me. I’m sure you must have gone through a similar vetting process.” He allowed himself a small smile. “And they came up with the two of us, which tells me the selection process was pretty good. I never imagined I’d get matched with someone I get along with as well as I do with you.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” Magnus said, staring at something on the bookshelf, although what he could find interesting in a shelf full of books on the history of the Clave’s legal system, Alec couldn’t imagine.

“I have to admit, when I first heard about this idea, I certainly never imagined that I would be marrying someone like you.” 

“What did you imagine?” Alec couldn’t help asking. He’d wondered before, of course, but he’d never been brave enough to ask. 

“An unmitigated disaster involving people who were not me,” Magnus said with an exhausted smile. “I guess that just goes to show that my imagination can’t be trusted to predict the future.” 

“You’re not alone in that,” Alec agreed. Which was a shame, because his imagination was giving him some very lovely ideas about Magnus’s leather-clad thighs just at the moment.

It took Alec a few seconds to realize that Magnus had said something, and he’d missed it entirely. “Sorry, what? My mind was wandering.” 

“I can’t blame you after the afternoon we’ve both just had,” Magnus said, but there was a certain sharpness in his smile that made Alec wonder if Magnus suspected exactly where his mind had wandered. 

“I was just asking what you had imagined,” Magnus said. “You told me a bit about why you volunteered to be a part of this marriage and you did mention that I wasn’t what you expected, but I’m curious about how exactly I defy your expectations.” 

“I imagined a stranger,” Alec told him, deciding honesty was the best way to go. If this marriage was going to work, if there were any possibility that there could be more between the two of them than politics and the beginnings of friendship they already had, then he had to be as honest as possible. “And someone who believed that this union could be a genuine bridge of peace between the Clave and the Downworld. I imagined someone who had as little chance of marrying for love as I did. Someone who wouldn’t care if I could never love her.” 

“That’s...quite sad, actually,” Magnus said. “I can understand giving up on love. Obviously, since I did for so long. But to assume you were always destined for a loveless marriage is just... I don’t know.” He smiled wanly. “But perhaps that’s why I’ve never been married, despite living as long as I have.” 

“What, never?” Alec asked, surprised. 

Magnus shook his head. “Don’t sound so shocked. I know what the Clave thinks of me, but I’m not the sort of man who just gets married on a whim.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Alec said. “It’s just, I haven’t known you long, but I’ve seen you with your friends and with orphan children you barely know and... You have so much love to give, Magnus. I’m just surprised that you’ve never found someone to share your life with.” 

“Wait until you know me a little longer, Alexander,” Magnus said, and there was no mistaking the hint of bitterness and hurt under his smile. Alec wanted to find the people who put it there and punch every single one of them in the face. “I’m sure the reason why will become clear to you.”

Alec shook his head. “I don't think so.”

“But weren't we just discussing how none of this has gone the way you imagined?” Magnus countered.

“Yeah, but that's different,” Alec said. “You aren't at all what I imagined because you're more than I could have hoped for in every way.” He felt ridiculous even saying it out loud. Magnus had to know that already.

“Here I was thinking the same thing about you,” Magnus said. This smile, though small, was entirely genuine, and Alec didn't know what to do with it.

“Things will be different after tomorrow,” Magnus said.

“Some will,” Alec agreed. “But we'll still have all of the same problems to face that we do today. Well, minus the wedding planning, but I'm sure there will be disputes between Shadowhunters and Downworlders that will replace them.”

“Do you really think people will come to us with disputes?” Magnus asked in surprise.

“You don't?” Alec said. “I mean, they're supposed to already, with you being High Warlock and me as Head of the Institute. This is the kind of thing that should be falling on our plates already.”

“But it doesn't, for the most part,” Magnus pointed out. “And there's a reason for that. Downworlders don't trust Shadowhunters, and vice versa. Our marriage isn't going to change that.”

“Not immediately, no,” Alec agreed, “but we can work toward building that trust. Now that I'm officially Head of the Institute, I can even be more open about it. I have so many ideas— But those are problems for after the wedding.”

“I look forward to hearing them,” Magnus said. “But you're right. Let's just focus on getting through the wedding for now.”

Alec rose to set the stack of papers he'd be holding from the rehearsal on the desk. “This is all so surreal,” he said. “It's hard to believe that a day from now, we’ll be married.”

“Not just for us, either,” Magnus said. “I'm pretty sure half the Downworlders planning to attend are doing so just because they'd never believe I married a Shadowhunter unless they saw it with their own eyes.”

Alec grinned at him, leaning back against the desk. “I think it's probably the same for a lot of the Clave. And I think a few are coming just so they can be properly offended.”

“Now that gives me something to really look forward to,” Magnus said. “Offending uptight Shadowhunters is practically a hobby. Do you think they’re more offended that you're marrying a man or a warlock? I want to make sure I cause the maximum amount of offense with my existence.”

“I'm sure there are plenty of people who will be offended by both,” Alec assured him. He shook his head. “I can't believe the first time I ever kiss another man, it's going to be in front of half the Clave.”

Magnus went very still in that way that Alec was coming to realize meant he was genuinely surprised.

“But,” Magnus said slowly, “you've kissed women before.” It wasn't a question, although it really should have been.

“I've never had much interest in kissing women,” Alec told him. It was the closest he'd ever gotten to saying the words out loud, even if Izzy had guessed years ago.

“Alexander,” Magnus’s face was serious as he stepped away from the bookcase and into Alec's personal space, “we don't have to do this. There's still time to call off the wedding. I'm willing to take the blame. I can make up an excuse the Spiral Council will believe, and I'm sure the Clave would be more than happy to blame me. You don't have to do this.”

Alec felt like his insides were folding in on themselves. He'd known Magnus had reservations about their marriage. Magnus had been open about it from the beginning. But he'd never thought _this_ was what would make Magnus decide to back out.

“My inexperience bothers you that much?” Alec managed to force out through the tightness that threatened to close his throat entirely. He realized in that moment just how invested he’d let himself become. In this marriage. In _Magnus_. Because right now he didn't care what any of this meant for the Accords or the future of the Shadow World. He only cared that Magnus didn't want him.

“It bothers me that you're willing to give up so much for the sake of the Clave,” Magnus said. “Alexander, look at me.”

When Alec didn't move, Magnus cupped Alec's jaw in his palm and tilted his face up to meet his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Alec said, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, “that I'm not what you expected when you agreed to this marriage. I should've told you sooner, but I didn't think—”

“You are exactly what I expected,” Magnus told him fiercely, “and everything I wanted when I volunteered.” And Alec didn't know how that could possibly be true, but there was no mistaking the absolute sincerity in Magnus's eyes.

“But you deserve better than to give away your first kiss as part of some political spectacle,” Magnus continued. “You’re so ready to give yourself away, for the Clave, for your ideals, for your family. But, Alexander, you deserve to keep some things for yourself.”

It was so close to what Izzy had said to him, but now, with Magnus's hand on his cheek and standing so close in those sinful leather pants, Alec could finally admit what he wanted for himself.

“Okay,” Alec breathed.

“Okay?”

Alec nodded, then leaned forward. He moved slowly, giving Magnus plenty of time to move away if he wanted to, and he saw the instant Magnus realized his intention, Magnus's eyes fluttering closed and lips parting.

Alec let his own eyes fall shut, one hand coming to rest on Magnus's waist as their lips brushed softly. It should have been awkward. Alec was acting entirely on instinct, and he was pretty sure kissing required actual skill, but Magnus's mouth moved against his own in perfect rhythm, like they'd done this a thousand times.

After a few seconds, Alec allowed himself to get bolder, deepening the kiss and flicking his tongue out to trace Magnus's lower lip. Magnus made a noise of approval, and Alec pulled him closer, reveling in the hard planes of Magnus's body against his, the heat of Magnus's skin through the silk beneath his thumb, the curve of Magnus's leather-clad hip beneath his fingers.

It wasn't until Alec realized he'd backed Magnus up against his desk and was about ten seconds from begging to find out if it was possible to remove those leather pants with his teeth that he broke the kiss. They stared at each other for a long moment, both breathing heavily, Alec’s hand curled into the silk of Magnus's shirt, Magnus's fingers tangled in Alec's hair.

“If you kiss me like that tomorrow,” Magnus said breathlessly, “I think we can offend a number of people.”

Alec shook his head. “That’s not for other people.”

Magnus grinned, disentangling his fingers from Alec’s hair and trailing them down his shoulder. “Well, I’m sure we can find another way to properly offend them.”

“I have faith in us,” Alec said with mock solemnity, causing Magnus to chuckle.

“As much as I hate to go,” Magnus said, moving back a step, “Ragnor will kill me if I miss my own bachelor party, and I’m already running late due to the necessity of not killing anyone during the rehearsal. Will you walk me out?”

Alec nodded. “A bachelor party?” he asked as they moved toward the front of the Institute. He supposed that would explain the leather pants. “Aren’t those more of a mundane thing?”

“Parties,” Magnus told him, “are a Downworlder thing. Surely you must have read that in all of those Clave files.”

“Sure,” Alec said, “but I’ve learned those aren’t always trustworthy when it comes to Downworlders. I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he added with mock sincerity, “but the Clave has a few prejudices when it comes to Downworlders.”

“That’s certainly news to me,” Magnus said.

Although he didn’t need to, Alec followed Magnus outside. He didn’t feel quite right saying goodbye with guards standing around listening.

“Have fun at your party,” he said, not quite sure what else to say, or where they even stood after that kiss.

“Oh, I intend to,” Magnus told him. Then he paused, giving Alec a considering look. “Would you like to join me?”

“At your bachelor party? Aren’t those traditionally supposed to be spent away from the person you’re marrying?”

Magnus smiled at him fondly. “I don’t think anything about our marriage could really be called traditional, do you?”

“I guess not.”

Magnus held out a hand. “What do you say?”

Alec stared at the offered hand a long moment. He should stay and make sure everything was ready for the wedding tomorrow, finish going over those patrol reports he hadn’t gotten to before the rehearsal, maybe even do some patrolling himself to clear his mind.

But.

With a shy smile, he took Magnus’s hand. The Institute would be fine without him for a few hours.


	8. Chapter 8

In what was becoming a trend since he’d met Alec Lightwood, Magnus had no fucking clue what he was doing. He’d brought a Shadowhunter to a Downworld party. Granted, it was _his_ Downworld party, and he was supposed to be marrying this Shadowhunter in less than twenty hours, but still. At least he’d had the sense to portal them into his office instead of directly onto the dance floor for his usual dramatic entrance.

Alec didn’t drop his hand even after they stepped through the portal, and Magnus had the sudden urge to pull him down onto the purple velour couch and see if he was interested in picking up where they’d left off with that kiss. Which, he told himself sternly, would be a very bad idea.

Instead, he said, “So. This is my office.” It was, technically, one of several offices. But it was his office at Pandemonium. Smaller than his office at home, but with a great deal more seating.

Beyond the door, he could hear the throbbing of music and sounds of a party already in full swing. Magnus would never admit it aloud, but Ragnor might be _almost_ as good as he was at throwing parties.

“It’s. Um. Very well furnished,” Alec said, eyes taking in the lush couch, pair of high-backed chairs, and wide, modern desk.

“If I have to work, I prefer to do it in comfort,” Magnus told him. “Shall we?”

At Alec’s nod, Magnus led him out of the office and down the hall toward the main floor of the club. When they stepped through the curtain that separated the back of the club from the front, Alec froze. At first, Magnus assumed it was merely shock at the extravagance of the party—Ragnor really had gone all out—but then Alec leaned down to speak in his ear.

“ _This_ is your club?” he asked. “Pandemonium?”

There was something in his voice that had Magnus frowning. “Is that a problem?”

“Yeah,” Alec said, licking his lower lip in a nervous gesture that nonetheless sent Magnus’s thoughts wandering to places that were entirely inappropriate at the moment. “Maybe. We caught a Ravener selling mundane blood here last week. The night we ran into Clary.”

Magnus stared at him. “Selling mundane blood? _Here?_ That was the same night a couple Circle members showed their faces here. Do you think they could be connected?”

“I don’t know,” Alec said, running a hand through his hair in obvious irritation. “That was the one objective of our mission, to find out who the demons have been selling the blood to, and I still don’t actually know.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, squeezing his hand, “you can’t blame yourself for that. There were extenuating circumstances.”

“Oh, I don’t blame _myself_ ,” Alec assured him. “The little almost-mundie, on the other hand…”

Magnus sighed. It wasn’t Clarissa’s fault, either, but now was not the time for that particular argument, and anyway, Magnus thought Alec might have a few too many people telling him that already.

“Dance with me,” Magnus said.

“What?” Alec was looking at him like he'd grown a second head.

“Demons and death are problems for another time,” Magnus told him. “Tonight is for celebration. It's my bachelor party, and I want to dance with the most attractive man in the club.”

Alec smiled that bright, unguarded smile that never failed to make something warm bloom in Magnus's chest, but still he shook his head. “I can't dance.”

“Everyone can dance,” Magnus insisted. “You just need someone to teach you the basics.” He looked up at Alec through his lashes. “What do you say, Alexander? Will you let me show you how to move your body?”

This time when Alec’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, Magnus didn't think it was from nerves.

“Okay. Yeah,” Alec agreed. “But don't blame me if I break your toe.”

Laughing, Magnus led him to the dance floor, hands still entwined. Magnus was aware of eyes on them as they moved through the crowd, most curious, but some openly hostile. Even with the looks, it was hard to remember how much of a mistake this probably was when Alec smiled at him.

Ten minutes later, Magnus admitted defeat. Alexander really and truly could not dance. At all. There had thankfully been no broken bones in the attempt, but Magnus thought that was probably due to luck more than anything else.

“I did warn you,” Alec said as he followed Magnus off the dance floor.

“Rest assured, I will take your warnings far more seriously in the future,” Magnus told him. He did not understand how someone who had such precise control of his body in a fight could fail so spectacularly at controlling his movements on the dance floor, but he’d seen it with his own eyes. And he was pretty sure he had a bruise forming on his left shin.

“I think I could use a drink,” Magnus continued. “How about you?”

“I think that sounds less dangerous than dancing,” Alec said.

Before they’d made it halfway to the bar, however, they were interrupted by a dark-haired werewolf. 

“Alaric,” Magnus said in surprise, “I didn’t think this was your kind of party.” 

“It’s not,” Alaric agreed. “I hate to bother you when you’re,” his eyes flickering to Alec, “busy, but I’m here on official business, and I need to speak with you. In private.” 

“Of course,” Magnus said. “Alexander, I’m terribly sorry, but I need to take care of this. Maybe you could grab us those drinks? I’ll only be a minute.” Whatever the business was, he would make it short. 

“Sure,” Alec said, nodding his understanding. “I actually think I saw Cat back that way when we were dancing. I’m going to go say hello.” 

Magnus squeezed Alec’s arm in thanks, then turned back to Alaric. “We can speak in my office.”

Magnus led the way to his office and settled into his chair. It wasn’t unusual for him to deal with Downworld business at Pandemonium—in fact, it was where he took care of a lot of things for people who preferred to keep some discretion about meeting with him—but he really hadn’t anticipated having to do so tonight. When Ragnor planned a party, it was a _party_ , not a place for serious business. 

“Well then,” Magnus said, “would this be pack business or police business?” 

“A little of both,” Alaric said. “We know you’ve been looking into the disappearances of a few warlocks.” 

“Yes,” Magnus said. “I spoke to Lucian about the two who had mundanes file missing persons reports on them with your office.” 

Alaric nodded, sighing. “Luke wanted to talk to you about this then, but we didn’t have leave to tell you until now.” 

Magnus knew he meant leave from their pack Alpha, so he just nodded. 

“The thing is, it’s not just warlocks missing,” Alaric told him. “We’ve had a few wolves go missing, too. Three, to be exact. All with the same MO as your warlocks, absolutely no trace, just gone.” 

Magnus sat back in his chair. That did change things.

“Hmm,” Magnus said. “I don’t know for sure, but I heard from an inside source that the New York vampire clan might be missing a member or two, as well. Camille plays things close to her chest, though, even with her own people, so my source wasn’t able to confirm whether these vampires are actually missing or if Camille is just hiding their whereabouts for some reason.”

“Shit,” Alaric muttered, sucking his teeth. “That’s not what I was hoping to hear. You hear anything about seelies going missing?” 

Magnus shook his head. “No, but the Seelie Queen plays it even closer to the chest than Camille. I wouldn’t expect to hear anything from them.” 

“I’ve got a couple contacts at the seelie court,” Alaric said. “I can check with them, see if they’ll tell me anything.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Magnus said, “but I’ll see what I can find, as well. In the meantime, do you have any information on the wolves who’ve gone missing that you can share? If the same person or people are responsible, we might be able to find a link.”

“I can’t send you everything,” Alaric told him, “but I’ll send you what I can.”

“I’ll do the same,” Magnus promised, “and I’ll try to get more information on the possibly missing vampires from my source.”

“Appreciate it,” Alaric said. “With everything going on, the Circle’s return and those murdered mundanes, Downworlders need to have each other’s backs. I know some people might think you marrying a Shadowhunter means your loyalties are divided now, even if it is just politics, but we’ve worked together often enough I know you’re not about to sell us out to the Clave.”

“I appreciate it,” Magnus said, although he wasn’t sure he did. He’d been aware, distantly, that marrying Alexander would change some people’s opinions of him, but it was one thing to be aware of it in theory and quite another to have it confirmed as a thing that was already happening.

Magnus found Alec with Catarina and Ragnor in the small seating area at the back of the club. It hadn’t been hard to find them, since this was where he and Cat usually sat when they came to Pandemonium together.

“Magnus!” Ragnor greeted. “There you are. You know, your Shadowhunter appreciates my stories far more than you ever do. He should drink with us more often.”

“Don’t believe a word he says about me, Alexander,” Magnus said, slipping onto the couch next to him. “Ragnor has a habit of telling tall tales.”

“So you weren’t actually banned from an entire country?” Alec asked.

“Every good tall tale contains an element of truth,” Magnus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And as much as I would love to sit around and listen to you both continue to trash my reputation,” he said to Ragnor and Catarina, “I need to borrow my fiancé for a moment.”

“We hadn’t even gotten to any of the really scandalous parts,” Catarina said, sounding a little disappointed.

“We can save that for next time, though,” Ragnor said. “Now, get along so you can hurry back and actually enjoy your party, Magnus. I didn’t go to this much trouble just to watch you work all night.”

“Is everything all right?” Alec asked as Magnus led him down the back hallway that led to his office.

“The good news,” Magnus said, “is we have more information related to the warlock disappearances.”

“And the bad news?”

Magnus opened the door to his office and gestured Alec inside.

“There are also missing werewolves,” Magnus said. “And possibly missing vampires, although I've known about that for a while.”

“You didn't mention anything about missing vampires,” Alec said, frowning.

“It was shared with me in confidence. The person I got the information from isn’t even sure they’re really missing.”

Alec nodded. “All right. What's our next step?”

“As soon as I have all the information on the missing wolves and possibly missing vampires, we can look for any links,” Magnus said. “Maybe there were some clues left behind from the other disappearances.

“In the meantime,” he continued, “we should try to find out if there have been any seelie disappearances. I hate to ask, especially as busy as I know you are, but Isabelle seemed to imply she might have a contact at the seelie court.”

“She does,” Alec confirmed. “A seelie knight. I'll ask her to do some digging.”

“Thank you, Alexander.”

Alec sighed heavily. “You know, this would be so much easier if we'd just had this information from the start. Shadowhunters protect people from demons. It's what we do. But demons have been snatching Downworlders for months, and no one thought to bring it to us except you.”

“They don't trust the Clave,” Magnus said.

“And you do?”

Magnus shook his head. “I trust you.”

The words hung heavy between them, Alec staring into his eyes as if searching for something. Magnus wondered if he were about to be kissed again.

“Valentine Morgenstern is alive, and the former Consul was working for him.”

It was so far from what Magnus expected that it took several seconds for his brain to catch up.

“I'm sorry, can you repeat that?”

Alec sagged against the wall. “Consul Dieudonné was part of the Circle. He was working for Valentine. His betrayal is why the Clave pushed so hard for the Accords to be updated early, because they knew what would happen if it ever got out.”

“They thought there would be a Downworld revolt,” Magnus surmised.

“And with Valentine alive and the Circle still active, that would be even more of a disaster than it would be at any other time,” Alec agreed. “Not everyone knows—only a few people on the Council, in fact—but that’s why it happened.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Magnus asked. Surely, this wasn't something the Clave wanted getting out.

Alec gave him a tired smile. “Someone once told me trust makes you do strange things.”

“A wise man,” Magnus murmured, still trying to take it all in.

“I get it if this changes things,” Alec said, looking down at his boots. “You were right to be skeptical of this marriage, and I'll understand if you want to back out knowing what you do now.”

It should have been a relief. Magnus had been looking for a way out of this engagement since he'd impulsively stumbled into it, and this gave him an out, one that would probably negate the whole political marriage business entirely if he took it to the other Downworld leaders. He should tell Alexander that he was right, that he did want out.

“How long have you known?”

Alec's head snapped up. “What?”

“How long have you known about this?”

“Almost a week,” Alec said softly. “I should have told you sooner, but I just—”

“This doesn't change anything,” Magnus said.

“How can you say that?” Alec asked. “The Circle managed to infiltrate the highest level of Clave leadership. They could still have agents on the Council.”

“I'm not marrying the Clave, Alexander,” Magnus said, moving to stand next to him. “I'm marrying you.”

Alec watched him with wide eyes, like he was afraid Magnus would take the words back any second.

“You trusted me with this,” Magnus continued. “And nothing you've said changes what I think of you. Or what I think of the Clave for that matter.”

At Alec's puzzled look, he explained, “Ever since the Uprising, I've assumed every Shadowhunter I met was a potential Circle member. You've just confirmed that I was right to be cautious.”

“I don't know how you can think that and still want to marry me.”

“You don't need to understand,” Magnus told him. “Just trust that it's true.”

Alec spent a long moment searching his face, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” Magnus said. “Now come on. If we don't let Ragnor regale you with a few more of his absurd stories before you head back to the Institute, I'll never hear the end of it.”

Despite Ragnor’s insistence that he should stay because the party wouldn’t _really_ get started until after midnight, Alec was only away from the Institute for a little over two hours. Which was apparently plenty of time for people to make and implement terrible decisions in his absence.

“Good, you’re back,” Izzy greeted him as soon as he walked in the door. “Jace and Clary need backup.”

“Backup?” Alec frowned. “What are they even doing out in the field? Clary Fairchild wasn’t to leave the Institute until we recovered the Mortal Cup. If the Circle gets a hold of her—”

“That’s why they left,” Izzy interrupted him. “Clary got a lead on the Cup and didn’t think they could take the time to wait for you.”

“You could have called me,” Alec pointed out.

“I didn’t know where they were until Jace called for backup right before you got here. I knew they’d left the Institute, but…” Izzy shrugged. “I saw you leave with Magnus earlier. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Alec took a calming breath. Izzy was trying to help, he knew she was.

“In the future,” he said, “please remember that the Mortal Cup and anything related to the Circle take precedence over my personal life. In fact, anything mission-related takes precedence over my personal life.”

He was expecting Izzy to give him grief for being a workaholic, so the sly smile she gave him, like he’d admitted to something he hadn’t meant to, made him immediately wary.

“So, you left with Magnus for personal reasons, huh?”

Dammit. He walked right into that one. “Where are we meeting Jace and Clary?”

“What took you so long?” Jace actually had the gall to look annoyed when the four of them met up in front of the police station.

“What made you think it was a good idea to take Clary out of the Institute on an unsanctioned mission to look for the Mortal Cup without clearing it with me first?” Alec countered.

“It’s complicated,” Jace said.

“We found the Cup,” Clary interjected before Alec could tell Jace exactly what he thought of his excuse. “But, um, then we lost it. We have to sneak back in the precinct to get it.”

“This is a disaster,” Alec said.

“Hey,” Jace said, “demon pox is a disaster. This is an inconvenience. We just need a plan, that’s all."

“What about a glamour?” Izzy suggested.

“We tried that,” Jace told her. “Anyone working with Valentine will see right through it.”

“We know the Cup should be somewhere in the evidence locker,” Clary said. “Can we ask Magnus Bane to portal us inside?” 

“You can only portal somewhere you’ve already been,” Alec said, shaking his head. “I sincerely doubt Magnus has spent much time in the evidence locker of a mundane police station.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Izzy pointed out. 

It really could, and Alec didn’t want to disturb Magnus’s night any more than he already had, but in the end, he decided that they didn’t have a lot of options. Besides, who even knew if Magnus would hear his phone over the noise of the party. 

Magnus picked up on the second ring. 

“Alexander, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you before tomorrow. Is everything all right?”

“Hey,” Alec said, “I’m sorry for interrupting your party, but we kind of have a situation, and we could use your help.” 

“Of course,” Magnus said. “It would be terribly rude of me to refuse on the eve of our wedding. What do you need?”

“We need to break into the evidence locker at the mundane police station.” 

“And you think I spend a lot of time in police stations?” Magnus asked. 

“Well, if Ragnor was telling the truth, there was that one time in Barcelona—” 

“You two are never allowed to speak to each other again, I swear,” Magnus said. “I have a couple ideas. We’ll be there in five minutes.” 

Alec hung up the phone and turned to see everyone else watching him with interest. “He’ll be here in five minutes,” he told them. 

“Barcelona?” Izzy asked. 

“Not my story to tell,” Alec said. 

True to his word, Magnus arrived five minutes later, Ragnor in tow, although Ragnor looked significantly less green and horned than the last time Alec had seen him. He supposed Ragnor didn’t bother to glamour his warlock marks much if he wasn’t going to be interacting with mundanes. 

“I do hope this is important,” Ragnor said. “We were just about to get into some real trouble.” 

“What, stealing from the cops isn’t enough trouble for you?” Magnus asked. 

Ragnor waved a hand. “Child’s play, really.” 

Jace gave Alec a long look. “And you were complaining about my plan?” 

Alec shrugged. “They’ve got centuries of experience. Might as well let them try?” 

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus said, beaming at him. Alec didn’t mean to smile back. It just sort of happened without his permission. 

“Now,” Magnus said. “What exactly do you need out of the evidence locker?” 

“Dot’s Tarot cards,” Clary explained. “I can draw a quick sketch of what they look like if that would help.” 

“It would,” Magnus said. “Thank you, Biscuit. Now, for the matter of getting inside. Do any of you happen to know if Detective Rodriguez is in at the moment?” 

“He is,” Clary confirmed. “Jace and I saw him when we were inside before.” 

“Perfect,” Magnus said. “As it happens, I have some things I need to give him anyway.” He held out a hand, and it was suddenly filled with a thick folder. 

Magnus and Ragnor spent a few minutes consulting with Clary on what, exactly, the cards they were looking for looked like. Alec noted that Clary didn’t tell them which card specifically they were looking for, or why. It was reassuring to note that the girl could occasionally keep her mouth shut. 

“All right,” Magnus said. “You all just stay here. This should only take a few minutes.” 

“Wait,” Alec said, “the two of you are going by yourselves?” 

“Detective Rodriguez will be suspicious if I show up with a bunch of Shadowhunters in tow,” Magnus said. “Yes, even you, Alexander,” he added before Alec could say anything. “Just, trust me.” 

Alec nodded, because he did. 

“We’ll be back in ten minutes,” Magnus said. 

Behind his back Ragnor held up a hand and mouthed “five,” before following Magnus into the station. 

“Alec,” Jace said as soon as they were out of earshot, “do you really think it’s a good idea to trust a couple of warlocks to get the Mortal Cup? Everyone is after this thing. What if they take it for themselves?” 

“Then it will still be safer than if Valentine had it,” Alec said. “But they won’t.” 

Jace scowled, but didn’t argue further, and instead went over to comfort Clary about the precarious fate of her werewolf father-figure. 

Alec took the opportunity to talk to Izzy. “I need you to do something for me,” he told her. 

“What, helping find the Mortal Cup while you’re off doing who knows what with Magnus isn’t enough?” she teased. 

“We went to his club, we danced, that’s all.” At least, that was all that had happened after they left the Institute. The memory of their earlier kiss was still seared firmly into Alec’s mind. “And no, that’s not enough, because we have far too many balls in the air.” 

Izzy stared at him. “You danced? With Magnus? Is he okay?” 

“Izzy, this is not the time,” Alec said. 

“Alec, the last time I danced with you, you broke my toe. I had to use an iratze and everything.” 

“Yeah, well,” Alec said, not meeting her eyes, “what kind of Shadowhunter wears open-toed shoes?” 

“I was attending our cousin’s wedding in the middle of Alicante. I was also ten.” 

“Can you focus for just a minute, please?” Alec said. At her reluctant nod, he continued. “It turns out warlocks aren’t the only ones disappearing. There are some missing werewolves, too, and maybe some vampires. But nobody has been able to find out if any seelies have gone missing.” 

“And you want me to pump Meliorn for information,” Izzy said with understanding.

“Please do not ever phrase it like that again,” Alec said in a pained voice, “but yes.” 

“I think I can manage that,” Izzy told him. “I have my ways of getting him to talk.” 

Alec was thankfully saved from more innuendo by Magnus’s and Ragnor’s return. 

“Your cards,” Ragnor said, pulling them from inside his coat pocket and handing them to Alec. 

Clary grabbed them from his hands and quickly began flipping through them. Alec let her. 

“Here,” she said breathlessly. “It’s here.” 

“Yeah, maybe don’t announce that to the whole world,” Alec said glancing around to see if any of the nearby mundanes had heard anything. “We should get that back to the Institute.” 

“Alexander,” Magnus said, watching him curiously, “what exactly did we just steal for you?” 

“Portal first, talk later,” Alec said. 

Magnus, of course, stopped him as soon as they were back at the Institute. “So,” he said. “The cards?” 

“My mother hid the Mortal Cup in the cards she painted for Dot,” Clary explained. “Now, I just need to pull it out, and...oh.” She was pressing her fingers against the face of one of the cards. “I guess I need some more practice. I don’t really have this skill down yet.” 

“Practice later,” Alec told her. “For now, the Cup is going somewhere safe.” He grabbed the bag and took it over to one of the Institute vaults, the one keyed specifically to his stele. And since he was finally Head of the Institute, keyed _only_ to his stele, unless the Consul herself decided to stop by. 

“There,” he said, once he had placed the Cup inside. “The Cup is safe until we can take it back to where it belongs, in Idris.” 

He turned to Magnus “Thank you for your help. Again. If you send me your bill—” 

Magnus waved a dismissive hand. “Consider it a wedding present.” 

“I, on the other hand, expect to be paid,” Ragnor said. At Magnus’s dirty look, he rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But I was going to get you a much better wedding present.”

The wedding itself went surprisingly without incident. Everyone played as nicely as it was possible for a large crowd of Shadowhunters and Downworlders to do. Magnus did briefly entertain the notion of dipping Alec for a proper kiss when he saw the pinched look on a particularly sour old Shadowhunter who glared throughout the entire ceremony, but decided against it. Alec’s quiet intake of breath at their perfunctory, decidedly chaste kiss was quite enough to make Magnus smile, anyway. 

The aftermath of the wedding, on the other hand, was one long, headache-inducing ordeal. Since this was a political formality, there was no formal reception, but there were a number of people who felt the need to come up and give their opinions on how very important it was for Magnus and Alec to not single-handedly destroy the Accords. It was exhausting, and Magnus had never been as fond of Isabelle as he was when she dragged the two of them away from a particularly cranky and opinionated vampire on the auspices of Clave business. 

“You have my undying gratitude, my dear,” Magnus told her as soon as they’d made their way to Alec’s office. “I don’t think I have ever been quite so grateful for a rescue as I was just then.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I need a favor,” Izzy told him, “but I really do have business to discuss with Alec.” 

“Oh,” Magnus said, “I guess I’ll find somewhere else to be, then.”

“Wait,” Alec said. “Is this about what I asked you to look into last night?” At Izzy's nod, he said, “It's all right. Magnus is part of this, too.”

Izzy gave him a curious look, but said, “I couldn't get a straight answer, but the not straight answer I got is that yes, seelies have gone missing from New York.”

“So that's Downworlders as a whole being taken, then,” Magnus said.

“Not sure if that makes it more or less likely the Circle is responsible,” Alec said. “But at least it's one more piece of information.”

“We aren't going to figure it out tonight,” Izzy told them. “You both look dead on your feet.”

“Just what every man wants to hear on his wedding day,” Magnus quipped. “But it’s true that I could use a solid night of sleep. It's been a while since I've had one.”

“You too, big brother,” Izzy said. “I know exactly how little sleep you got last night.”

“Believe me,” Alec said, “now that the Cup is safe, I fully intend to catch up on the sleep that I've been missing.”

“Then I’ll go distract as many dignitaries as I can so that you can actually get to that sometime this year,” Izzy said, heading back out of the office.

“Speaking of sleep,” Magnus said once the door was closed behind Izzy, “are you staying here tonight or coming back to the loft?”

Magnus did his best not to show his nervousness but couldn't help fidgeting a bit with his rings. They hadn't discussed living arrangements since agreeing that Alec would at least occasionally stay at the loft after the wedding. Magnus didn't want to push the issue, but at the same time, he wanted Alec to know he was welcome at the loft.

“I was thinking I'd sleep at the loft tonight, if that's all right?” Alec kept his eyes carefully averted, affecting a casualness that Magnus could see right through.

“Of course,” Magnus told him. “I have your room all set up for you, whenever you’d like to stay in it.”

Alec gave him a quick smile. “In that case, maybe we should head out now, while Izzy has everyone distracted. I just need to grab a few things first.”

It turned out that when Alexander said a few things, he really meant a few. Magnus had expected more, but perhaps he was planning to move more of his things to the loft later. Or maybe he wasn’t planning to spend as much time at the loft as Magnus had assumed. This was all making him realize they really should have talked about this more before the wedding. There were so many things they probably should have talked about.

Surprisingly small bag in hand, Alec followed Magnus through the portal back to the loft. For the first time in a very long time, Magnus felt awkward in his own home.

“I set up the guest room for you,” Magnus said, more to fill the silence than anything else, because of course Alexander already knew that. “We didn’t have the chance to talk about what you wanted or needed, so I had to guess, but I can make any changes you want if you just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Alec said, offering him a small smile. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Magnus followed Alec as he pushed open the door to the guest room—the door to _Alec’s_ room—then paused in the doorway. He’d modeled the decor on what little he’d seen of the bedrooms at the Institute, although the bed was larger and a great deal more comfortable. There were some comforts Magnus wasn’t willing to sacrifice in the hopes of making Alec feel more at home.

Alec dropped his bag on the dresser and made his way to the far side of the room, letting his fingers trail across the small bookshelf and heavy curtains as he went, with Magnus following a few steps behind. He stopped in front of the weapons rack.

“I wasn’t sure what all you’d want with you when you stay here,” Magnus explained, “but there’s room for your bow and quiver and a couple seraph blades. I can adjust it if you need me to. It’s a simple spell, really.”

Alec turned to him, smile bright and genuine. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Magnus.”

Magnus smiled back, nervousness trickling away to be replaced by a satisfied warmth. “You’re welcome, Alexander. I want you to feel at home here.”

“I appreciate it,” Alec said. “Really. This is...” He looked around the room again. “It’s so much more than I was expecting.”

“Well,” Magnus said, “I think I remember something about you needing to catch up on your sleep, so I should let you do that.”

He turned to go but was stopped by a gentle hand on his arm. He looked up at Alec questioningly.

“Before you go,” Alec said, visibly squaring his shoulders. “I wanted to ask, now that the wedding is over and we might have a little more time to ourselves, or at least time to take a break, I was thinking we could, if you want, maybe grab those drinks you asked me about?”

It was, without question, the most awkward way Magnus had ever been asked on a date. He smiled, wide as can be. “I’d like that, Alexander. Maybe in the morning we can look over our schedules and find a time that works for both of us? Over breakfast if you’d like. I conjure a mean Belgian waffle.”

“That sounds great,” Alec said, letting his hand slip from Magnus’s arm.

“It’s a date, then,” Magnus said, stepping back. “Sleep well, Alexander.”

“You, too. Goodnight, Magnus.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Izzy, I need your help.”

Izzy’s head snapped up from her microscope to look at her brother in concern. “One second,” she said, scribbling something on the notepad next to her. “I’m looking at those samples Luke sent us.”

“Yeah, no hurry,” Alec said, trying hard to calm his restlessness. It was huge progress that the werewolves were willing to share some of the information they’d gathered on the murdered mundanes, both in the investigation and in terms of relations between the Clave and the Downworld. His minor personal crisis could wait.

Izzy gave him a sidelong glance that made Alec realize he was doing a terrible job of not fidgeting.

“I’ll wait outside,” he offered.

“I only need five minutes,” Izzy promised, “and then I’m all yours. I just want to make sure I’ve got these calculations right before I draw any conclusions.”

In reality, it only took Izzy three minutes to finish, for which Alec was extremely grateful.

“What did you find?” he asked when she stepped out of the lab.

“There’s a compound in all of the blood samples,” she told him. “I think it might be why they were taken. And now that we know from Luke that they were all mundanes with the Sight and that it was probably the Circle buying blood from the demons, that might help us narrow down what’s going on.”

“It’s somewhere to start, anyway,” Alec agreed.

“So,” Izzy said, “what’s the latest emergency?”

“It’s not an emergency.” Alec shrugged, going for nonchalance. Izzy’s raised eyebrows told him he hadn’t quite managed it.

“Spill, big brother.”

“I have a date tonight,” Alec said quickly. “With Magnus. And I don’t really know— Look, can you just tell me if the shirt I picked to wear is okay?”

Izzy’s grin, which had been growing as he talked, turned into full-throated, delighted laughter when he finished.

“You know what, never mind,” Alec said, turning to walk away.

“No!” Izzy said, grabbing his arm. “I won’t laugh anymore, I promise. I’m just happy for you, Alec. Come on, show me your shirt.”

They’d almost made it to Alec’s room when they were interrupted by an urgent, “Sir!”

Alec turned, ready to face whatever new disaster had cropped up. He only hoped Clary hadn’t tried to sneak out of the Institute _again_.

“What is it?”

“An envoy from the Clave just arrived,” Underhill told him. “I thought you’d want to be notified immediately.”

Alec nodded. “Thank you.” Not that the Clave had told him they were sending any envoy. This was charmingly ominous.

He turned to Izzy, who simply patted his arm. “Go. I’ll find you something decent to wear tonight.”

“Something I’d _actually_ wear, Iz,” Alec warned. At her nod, he added, “Thank you.”

The woman he found inspecting the ops center was younger than he expected, with blonde hair pulled back in a tidy braided updo and sharp blue eyes.

“Lydia Branwell,” she introduced herself as soon as Alec stepped into the room. “The Clave sent me to oversee a smooth transition of power for the newly appointed Head of the Institute.”

“Alec Lightwood,” he said with a tight smile. “Head of the New York Institute and Acting Head for nearly four years before that. I’m sure there won’t be any problems related to transitions of power.”

Lydia nodded. “Even so, with your recent wedding and the upcoming signing of the Accords, not to mention the return of the Circle, the Clave thinks it would be best if you had someone around to make sure things go smoothly.”

“So, you’re a baby-sitter,” Alec said bluntly.

“Some people probably think so,” she said, just as blunt. “It can’t have escaped your notice that there are those in Idris who are concerned about the prospect of someone married to a Downworlder running an Institute.”

“No, but I assumed that if there were any serious objections, the Council wouldn’t have given the Institute to me in the first place.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the compromise,” Lydia told him. “From what little I’ve seen so far, you run a tight ship. Don’t screw things up, and I can be out of your hair in a month or two.”

“And what do _you_ think about a Shadowhunter who’s married to a Downworlder running an Institute?” Alec asked.

Lydia shrugged. “I think there’s nothing wrong with a political marriage, and it would be silly to penalize someone for making a pragmatic decision.” She looked at him. “The only problem would be if your loyalty to the Clave were compromised. As long as it’s not, you have nothing to worry about.”

The words were simple, but they didn’t exactly give Alec hope. He was loyal to the Clave, but there were so many different things someone could use as an excuse to decide he wasn’t. This was not a complication he needed.

Alec put on his best professionally polite smile. “Why don’t you let me show you around?”

It took exactly a minute and a half for Magnus to realize that The Hunter’s Moon was maybe not the best place to take Alexander on their first date. It wasn’t that the atmosphere was wrong or that there was anything wrong with their drinks (although IPAs apparently weren’t Alec’s drink, either, but Magnus was determined to figure it out). It was just the way people kept watching them. Not overtly, of course. Just little sidelong glances that made it feel like they were on display.

“Perhaps a mundane pub would have been a better choice,” Magnus said. “We can always try somewhere else, if you’d rather?”

“No,” Alec said, shaking his head. “This is— It’s fine. It makes sense for people to be curious. We did just have a very public, very politically important wedding. It’s natural for people to be curious. They probably just want to make sure we aren’t on the verge of killing each other and breaking the Accords.” He took a deep swig of his beer, and Magnus noticed that his grimace was at least slightly less intense this time. “Besides, I can’t imagine being more comfortable surrounded by mundanes.”

“There is something to be said for not having to hide,” Magnus agreed. He nodded toward the pool table in the corner. “Do you fancy a game?”

Alec glanced over, a tiny smile appearing on his face. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

Two games in, Alec finally seemed to lose the tension that he’d been holding in his shoulders since he’d shown up at the loft earlier in the evening. They were well matched in both skill at the game and competitiveness, and they’d each managed to win a game.

“I think I’m going to grab another refill before I beat you again,” Magnus said, brandishing his empty glass.

“You mean before I beat you again,” Alec corrected with a grin.

“I said what I said.”

“Come on,” Alec said. “I might as well get another drink, myself.”

Maia, the werewolf bartender, greeted them with a smile. Magnus only knew her in passing, but she was one of the few people here tonight who hadn’t treated them any differently than any other patrons, and that went a long way in his book.

“What can I get for you boys?”

“A Manhattan for me,” Magnus said. He glanced at Alec, who looked no less lost than he had when they’d ordered their first round.

“Something that isn’t beer or too sweet?” Alec said after a moment of consideration.

“Gin martini,” Magnus suggested. “Extra dirty,” he added, with a grin for Alec, who responded with a tolerant head shake for his innuendo.

“Coming right up,” Maia promised, grabbing a shaker.

“I suppose we both have a healthy dose of the competitive spirit,” Magnus observed.

“I grew up with Jace,” Alec said. “I didn’t have much choice. And I’m sure it didn’t help that Izzy encouraged us both.”

Magnus was dimly aware of a phone ringing as he picked up their drinks. It wasn’t his phone or Alec’s, so he didn’t pay it much attention. He watched with interest as Alec sipped his drink, and for the first time, didn’t wince.

“This is nice,” Alec said, clearly surprised. “Salty and...kind of green?”

Magnus beamed, happy to have finally found a drink Alec liked. “That’s the juniper in the gin.”

“Wait, slow down.” Magnus turned around at Maia’s panicked voice to find her talking furiously on her phone. “Shit. Where are you? East side or west side? No, I’ll be right there, don’t panic.”

She turned to the other bartender on duty, shouting that there was a pack emergency and she’d be right back.

“No, don’t hang up,” Maia insisted into the phone. “I can— I’ll get someone else to call. You keep talking to me so I know you’re safe.” 

She turned and grabbed the arm of the nearest person, who happened to be Magnus. “I need you to call Luke,” she said urgently. “Gretel is being hunted by a pack of demons over by Foley Square. I’m going after her, but I need backup.”

“Of course,” Magnus said, pulling out his phone.

“I’ll call Luke,” Alec said without missing a beat. “Magnus, can you make a portal to Foley Square?” At his nod, Alec turned back to Maia. “We’re not your pack, but we can be your backup until they get there.”

Maia gave him a quick, assessing once over, then nodded. “Thanks, Shadowhunter,” she said, before turning back to her phone.

Magnus wasn’t entirely sure where Gretel was, and he wasn’t as familiar with this part of the city as he was with other parts of New York, so they had to run a few blocks from the portal before they caught up with Gretel.

The pale-furred werewolf was backed up to a brick wall, in full wolf form, facing off with half a dozen Ravener demons. She had several lacerations on her forequarters and was stumbling in a way that suggested she was already suffering severe effects of demon venom.

What surprised Magnus, though, was the woman who stood behind the demons, holding her own portal open.

It wasn’t that Magnus was surprised that Iris Rouse would summon a pack of demons, or even that she’d use them for nefarious purposes. She’d always skirted the edges of the law, and her attempts to breed new warlocks showed that she didn’t exactly care about the welfare of others or the Accords.

No, what was surprising was the vacant look in her eyes and the black veins running across her face and up her arms.

Before Magnus had time to do much more than register Iris’s identity and appearance, Maia had shifted to her wolf form and launched herself at the redheaded warlock.

“Try to leave her alive so we can question her,” Alec called as he pulled a short seraph blade from his thigh holster and expertly dispatched the nearest Ravener demon.

Between Maia and Magnus, it took very little time to subdue Iris. She was less powerful than Magnus to begin with, and she was also clearly not at the top of her game. If the strange black veins weren’t enough of a hint, her magic was muted and more erratic than it should be.

As soon as they had Iris contained, Maia rushed off to help Alec and Gretel with the remaining demons. Iris stared up at Magnus from where he had her pinned magically to the ground.

“Madzie,” she gasped. “Is Madzie safe?”

It wasn’t what Magnus expected, and he found himself nodding before he could even consider whether it was a good idea to answer.

“She’s safe. Far away from you,” he added.

Iris scowled at him, body shaking like someone in the throes of drug withdrawal. “You can’t keep her from me. But for now, she’s safe, and that’s all that matters.”

“Safe from what?” Magnus wondered. “Iris, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t you know yet?” Iris laughed bitterly through her spasms. “Valentine. He’s back, and he’s experimenting on Downworlders, on warlocks, making us—” She cut off into a pained scream, convulsing.

Reaching out with his magic, Magnus did his best to calm her, but without knowing what was causing the convulsions, he was at a loss. He was a decent healer when he knew what he was dealing with, but something like this, that he’d never seen before, that he knew nothing about other than “Valentine’s experiments,” was beyond him.

A hand landed on Magnus’s shoulder, and he looked over to find Alexander, helping Maia support an unconscious Gretel.

“I can’t help both of them,” Magnus said. “Not and keep Iris contained if she starts to recover.”

“We can take them to the Institute,” Alec said. “You can treat Iris in one of the cells, and we’ve got materials for treating demon venom in the infirmary.”

“I don’t think so,” Maia said. “I appreciate the help, but I’m not letting you take one of my pack back to your Institute.”

“Nothing will happen to her, I promise.” Alec said.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Maia said. “You might be all right, Lightwood, but I don’t exactly trust the rest of your kind. Take the warlock. She tried to hurt one of ours, so you can do what you want to her as long as you share whatever information you get out of her. The rest of my pack will be here soon, and we can take care of Gretel.”

Alec nodded with obvious reluctance.

“Luke has my number if you need more help with her injuries than you can give,” Magnus said.

Maia nodded her thanks, then motioned for them to go.

Healing Iris proved to be an involved process that required several potions the Institute kept regularly stocked and calling in Cat for help, but they eventually left her peacefully unconscious instead of convulsing in a well-guarded cell. A blonde Shadowhunter Alec irritably introduced as Lydia promised to call as soon as Iris regained consciousness, so Magnus portalled himself and Alec back to the loft.

“So,” Magnus said as they entered the loft, “this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our first date.” It wasn’t the most disastrous first date he’d ever been on, or even the first that involved a demon-related disaster, but it wasn’t exactly a success, either.

“Me either,” Alec agreed, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch. “But it was fun until, you know, demons. Maybe next time we should just stay in?”

Even tired as he was from the fight and healing Iris, Magnus couldn’t help the smile that split his face. Alexander wanted there to be a next time.

“Absolutely not,” he said. Alec looked at him surprised, and Magnus hurried to explain. “Alexander, I’m a warlock. I can portal us literally anywhere in the world. Maybe New York wasn’t the best choice under the circumstances, but you have to at least give me a chance to sweep you off your feet.”

Alec smiled one of those beautiful, genuine smiles that Magnus couldn’t get enough of. “I think you've got that covered regardless of where we are.”

“But no demons next time,” Magnus said, smiling back.

“No demons,” Alec agreed before leaning in to brush his lips against Magnus’s.

And maybe, Magnus figured, the date wasn’t a _total_ disaster.

Alec couldn’t tell if there was actually something wrong that his subconscious was picking up on, or if he just wasn’t used to not being in crisis mode anymore. It had been almost two weeks since he’d gotten married, recovered the Mortal Cup, and rescued/captured Iris Rouse, and six days since the signing of the updated Accords. He and Magnus—and eventually Lydia, who it turned out was surprisingly easy to work with—had spent several days questioning Iris, gathering all of the information she had to give them about those who had captured her.

Iris had confirmed that she’d been taken by the Circle, and that Valentine was alive, which wasn’t news to Alec or Magnus, but now it was official knowledge, which was a huge weight off of Alec’s back. Iris hadn’t exactly been willing to talk to Shadowhunters, but her hatred for the Circle and the horrors they’d put her through proved greater than her hatred for those who had her imprisoned now. She’d told them that Valentine was experimenting on Downworlders, that he’d managed to create some kind of serum that allowed him to control warlocks—those that it didn’t kill, anyway—and he was using them to summon the packs of demons that were capturing other Downworlders. It sounded almost like he was building an army of mind-controlled Downworlders.

Much to both Magnus’s and Clary’s disappointment, Iris hadn’t seen Dot.

They’d sent Iris to Idris to stand trial along with a note from Alec that she’d been very helpful in providing information on Valentine and the Circle. Not that he expected it would have much of an impact on her sentence given all she’d done. If the Clave let her live, he would be very surprised.

What hadn’t gone back to Idris was the Mortal Cup, and maybe that was why Alec was so on edge. Consul Penhallow knew they’d recovered it, had known since the night it happened, but insisted that it was safer in a vault at the New York Institute that only she and Alec had access to than it would be in Alicante right now. Which, honestly, did not give Alec a lot of confidence in what the Council was doing or in the Clave’s ability to take on Valentine in any kind of meaningful way. Consul Penhallow promised to send word as soon as she deemed it safe to transport the Cup, but so far, she hadn’t sent it.

Magnus had gotten word of three more missing warlocks, but none of those disappearances had yielded any more information than they already had.

Then there was Clary Fairchild. Despite knowing that they were searching for Jocelyn, despite being involved in the process herself, she’d made repeated attempts to sneak out of the Institute to go looking on her own. She’d been working with Magnus to gather intel using the portal shard, which along with the information they’d gathered from Iris had given them a pretty good idea of what the inside of Valentine’s hideout looked like. Iris was able to give them a rough location and said she suspected the hideout was on the water, but that still gave them many square miles to search. Ragnor was working on getting a more precise location but tracking the potion he’d made for Jocelyn was apparently a long and involved process.

It was the waiting that was making him twitchy, Alec decided. Waiting and not being able to do anything. He was used to taking action, and there hadn’t been any actions for him to take since they’d sent Iris to Idris.

“Do you really dislike musicals this much, or are you thinking about work again?”

Alec let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and forced himself to relax into the couch and against Magnus’s side. “Sorry,” he said, attempting to turn his attention back to the dancers on the screen. “I guess I’m a little distracted.”

It was their fifth date. Alec was absolutely counting. Magnus had taken him to Tokyo and London. Alec had taken Magnus to his favorite burger joint in the East Village. They had miraculously entirely avoided demon attacks. And, yeah, it might be a little bit weird to be dating the guy he was married to, but it was the only thing in Alec’s life that wasn’t giving him a headache. Magnus was amazing and fun to be around and better at kissing than should probably be legal.

This was the first date they’d actually spent at the loft. During the course of their previous dates, Magnus had discovered what he insisted was Alec’s “tragic lack of cinematic literacy” and vowed to fix it. Which is how they’d ended up snuggled up on the couch eating pizza (Alec’s choice) and watching a film Alec was pretty sure was about a writer who's obsessed with a cabaret performer who can sing remarkably well for someone with tuberculosis (Magnus’s choice), but he honestly hadn’t been paying close enough attention to be certain.

It wasn’t at all how Alec had pictured this date going. He’d thought, or maybe just hoped, that Magnus’s suggestion they stay at the loft meant Magnus was just as ready as he was to take their physical relationship further. He’d been thinking about it half the day, and now that he was actually here, with Magnus, alone in their loft with a whole night to themselves, his mind was consumed with worries about work and everything that might go wrong.

Sometimes, Alec thought his mind was a real dick.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Magnus offered.

Alec shook his head. “I want to be able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry, Magnus, this isn’t fair to you.”

“Seems like it’s not fair to you, either,” Magnus said with a shrug. “You’re the one spending your night off worrying about work.”

“I guess.” Alec didn’t want to admit that this wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence for him. Before he’d met Magnus, most of his nights off were spent worrying about work, or his family, or the intersection of those two things.

Magnus sighed and paused the movie. “If the film isn’t enough to distract you, then we’ll have to find something else that can.”

It wasn’t, for a wonder, said with even the slightest hint of innuendo, but Alec arched his eyebrows anyway. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Magnus said, answering Alec’s teasing grin with one of his own, “I didn’t have anything specific in mind before, but when you ask like that, I think perhaps I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” Alec asked, leaning in and crowding Magnus against the arm of the couch. “What’s that?”

Magnus grinned, then held up the tiramisu he’d apparently summoned from the takeout bag they’d left in the kitchen. “Dessert.”

“I think dessert could definitely distract me,” Alec said, taking the container and plastic forks and deliberately placing them on the coffee table.

Magnus’s mouth was hot and eager against his own and sent all thoughts of Valentine and the Mortal Cup and Circle spies in Alicante flying out of his head. It amazed Alec, as it always did, how easy this was. Not the actual kissing—there was definitely a learning curve there, but he thought he was doing okay with it—but just being together, wanting each other, like it was the simplest, most natural thing in the world.

Alec let his hand slide beneath the hem of Magnus’s shirt, fingers tracing the ridge of abs under skin smooth as silk, and let his thoughts and senses fill with nothing but Magnus. The way Magnus’s mouth moved against his. The press of Magnus’s body. The tingle Magnus’s fingers left behind as they made their way down the side of his neck and along his collarbone.

Alec broke the kiss with a gasp, desperate for air, only to have his breath stolen in the next instant when Magnus’s mouth followed the same path his fingers had moments earlier.

“Magnus,” he gasped, arching into the touch. There was a thought forming there, something he’d wanted to do. Or to ask? If he could just catch it. “Magnus,” he said again, more firmly as if that could help corral his own thoughts.

“Hmm?” Magnus murmured, his mouth moving up the other side of Alec’s neck, tracing the shape of his deflect rune.

“We could—” The words were right on the tip of his tongue, the thought on the tip of his brain. “Could we—?” There. “Bedroom?”

Okay, so, not the most eloquent way he could have phrased it, but Alec thought he got the message across. He was actually pretty proud of himself for being able to form words at all.

At least, he was until Magnus pulled away.

“Alexander.” Magnus’s face was guarded in a way that made Alec’s guts churn. This was not at all the reaction he’d been hoping for. Or expecting.

“Do you not want to?” Alec guessed. He’d thought they were on the same page. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to indicate that Magnus wanted Alec just as much as Alec wanted him, but maybe he’d been reading the signs wrong.

“I do,” Magnus was quick to assure him. “It’s just, it’s rare that I’ve ever felt this way about someone, and—” He looked away. “And there are things I haven’t told you, things I probably should have told you a long time ago. Things I need to tell you before we take our relationship any further.”

“Magnus, you can tell me anything,” Alec said, ignoring the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to imagine what kind of secret would make Magnus this nervous. “Or choose not to tell me, but if it’s worrying you so badly, I’m willing to listen.”

Magnus grabbed the tiramisu from the table, holding it out both in offering and like a shield between them. Alec took it and popped open the plastic container, then offered Magnus a plastic fork. Magnus had tried to insist they eat with actual silverware, but Alec managed to convince him it wasn’t real takeout if you did it that way.

Magnus took the fork, then spent a ridiculously long time poking at the dessert, before saying, “You never asked me why I put my name forward to be a part of this marriage.” His eyes were still fixed firmly on his fork. “And I know I offered an explanation, but it wasn’t precisely accurate.”

Alec frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t put my name forward at all,” Magnus told him, finally meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t the person the Downworld leaders chose. My name wasn’t even on the list.”

“But,” Alec said, “then why did you say you were?”

“The Spiral Council wanted me to volunteer, but I refused. But then we were sitting there in that meeting and…you looked so sad,” Magnus said with a helpless shrug. “Like you did when I asked you over for drinks. And I thought— No, that’s not true either. I wasn’t thinking at all, not really. I just didn’t want you to be sad anymore, and I guess I figured I could work out the details later.”

It was Alec’s turn to stare at the tiramisu. He didn’t know what to think, how to feel. “Do you regret it?” he asked finally.

“No,” Magnus said without hesitation. “I keep expecting to, if I’m honest, but no. I thought I could talk you out of it at first, and by the time I realized I couldn’t...” He shrugged again. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you looking that sad again, or the thought of you marrying someone else.”

“Magnus…” Alec struggled to find the words for what he was feeling. It was a lot to take in.

But whatever words he might have come up with were interrupted by a sudden, frantic pounding on the front door. Magnus sprang to his feet, rushing toward the door, Alec close on his heels. Magnus looked concerned, but not alarmed, so Alec figured he didn’t need to run to the other room for his weapons, but he stayed close to Magnus just in case he needed backup.

Magnus flung open the door to reveal a frantic-looking Raphael.

“What happened?” Magnus demanded. “Are you all right?”

Raphael shook his head. “Ragnor is missing.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Tell me everything,” Magnus said, ushering Raphael into the loft. “What happened?” He could feel Alexander hovering behind him, the weight of their unfinished conversation trailing along with him, but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now. 

“We were supposed to meet up by Union Square Park two hours ago,” Raphael told him. “I was going to show Ragnor the Church of St. Francis Xavier. He’s never been, and I know he’d appreciate the stained glass.” 

“Have you tried calling him?” Magnus asked, looking for an explanation that didn’t require utter panic. “You know how he loses track of time.” 

Raphael gave him a look that told him exactly how stupid a question that was. “Of course I did. And before you say it, Ragnor always picks up my calls.” 

“All right,” Magnus said. “He said something about meeting up with Cat earlier for help on that counter-potion, so we’ll start there. If we can figure out where he disappeared from, that will give us a place to start.” 

“And if it’s like the other disappearances?” Raphael asked. “There might not be anything to find.” 

“Then at least we’ll have that,” Magnus said. It wasn’t exactly a comfort, but it was something. 

“I’ll call Jace and Izzy,” Alec offered. “It can’t hurt to have more people looking.” 

According to Catarina, she’d left Ragnor half an hour before he was supposed to meet up with Raphael. They’d figured out what was missing from the counter-potion, and Ragnor had been planning to pick up the final ingredient before meeting Raphael so he could start brewing the potion in the morning. 

“Do you know where he was planning to get the missing ingredient?” Magnus wanted to know. 

Catarina shook her head. “He said he knew a guy. You know how Ragnor is.” 

Magnus did, indeed, know how Ragnor was. 

“Since we don’t know where he was between, we should start our search at his last known location and at the place he was supposed to be,” Alec said. 

“I can take you to where we were working on the potion,” Catarina offered. “Ragnor has multiple lairs, and I think this one is new. I’d never been there before, at least.” 

“And I can help search around Union Square Park,” Raphael said, “since I know the area.” 

They agreed that each search party should have a warlock, for ease of portaling, and after some bickering that mostly amounted to Magnus not feeling comfortable letting anyone he cared about out of his sight just then, Magnus took Raphael and Izzy with him to search the area around Union Square Park, and Alec and Jace went with Catarina to look for clues at Ragnor’s lair. 

As it turned out, having more people did not help, because there were no clues to find. 

“This isn’t your fault, you know,” Raphael said quietly as they searched the east side of the park. 

“I know that,” Magnus lied. “I’m just concerned about what this might mean. Dorothea knew that Jocelyn got the potion from Ragnor, which means that could be why he was taken. And now that Ragnor knows how to brew the counter-potion, it’s only a matter of time before Valentine is able to wake Jocelyn.” 

“Which sucks,” Izzy said, “but she can’t tell him where the Cup is anymore. At least we know that it’s safe.” 

“I wish that gave me as much confidence as it seems to give you,” Magnus told her. 

The fact was, this _was_ his fault. He’d known that Ragnor was at risk, and he hadn’t done enough to convince his friend to protect himself. If Magnus had been a better friend, Ragnor never would have been alone to be kidnapped in the first place. Magnus would have been with him. He should have insisted on Ragnor staying at his loft and working on the potion there, should have insisted that he go with Ragnor to see Cat. Instead, he’d been at home, making out with Alexander while his friend had been taken by the Circle.

They searched for three hours before Magnus finally admitted defeat and returned to the loft. He’d gotten word from Alec over an hour earlier that they’d finished searching Ragnor’s lair but found nothing that gave any clue as to where or how the warlock had been taken. Alec had gone to the Institute to file an official report on the disappearance but promised to return as soon as he was finished. 

It was strange coming home to an empty loft. After only two weeks, Alexander’s presence seemed like such a natural part of the space, of Magnus’s life. He knew they were going to have to finish the conversation Raphael had interrupted, and he was in no way looking forward to it. He’d been dreading it the entire time he’d been keeping the secret, which was why he’d taken so long to come clean. He knew he should have told Alec before the wedding, should have given Alec the opportunity to back out the same way Alec had given him when he divulged the secret about the former Consul’s betrayal. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to risk what they’d been building together. In retrospect, of course, it was obvious he’d just been putting it at greater risk. 

Magnus contemplated going to bed. He was tired, and it would give him an excuse to put off the conversation with Alec, but even knowing that things could go poorly, he couldn’t stand to be alone right now. And he needed to know, needed to see with his own eyes, that Alec was safe. It was a little ridiculous, he knew. Alexander was more than capable of taking care of himself, and even if he weren’t, they’d spoken on the phone just before Alec returned to the Institute. He knew Alec was fine, and it wasn’t like Valentine or the Circle had any interest in kidnapping Shadowhunters as far as they knew. But after everything, with Ragnor missing and knowing that Valentine had Dot, Magnus couldn’t help but worry. 

By the time Alec returned to the loft, Magnus had changed into his favorite pair of silk pajamas and was curled up on the couch with a fluffy blanket and a mug of hot buttered rum. 

“Hey,” Alec said, joining him on the couch, “I’m sorry I took so long. Things got a little messy back at the Institute.” 

“Clary?” Magnus guessed, forcing himself to uncurl his legs and sit on the couch like a grown adult who wasn’t in the throes of panic. 

“Partially,” Alec said. “And Lydia, and having to justify why I decided to pull two Shadowhunters who were supposed to be on patrol to help look for a missing warlock.” 

“But Ragnor was our best chance for finding Valentine,” Magnus said, frowning. And now that was lost, too, because Magnus hadn’t tried hard enough to protect his friend. 

“Which I told her,” Alec said leaning back into the couch. “And Lydia agreed, but still insisted that I write out a whole long explanation for the Clave so that no one could second-guess my decision, which I get, but...” 

“But you hate that you have to justify yourself,” Magnus finished for him. 

“Exactly,” Alec agreed. “But I shouldn’t be complaining about work right now. You must be so worried about your friend.” 

“I am,” Magnus agreed, “but honestly, it’s good to have a little distraction.” 

Alec put a hand on his knee and gave a gentle squeeze. “We already know the approximate area where Valentine is hiding, and you and Clary have gotten us a ton of intel with the portal shard. We’re going to find Valentine, and everyone that he’s taken.” 

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus said, putting his own hand over Alec’s. “I appreciate your confidence.” 

“But you don’t share it,” Alec guessed, flipping his hand over to thread their fingers together. 

Magnus closed his eyes, appreciating the gesture both for what it was and the reassurance that Alec wasn’t angry enough with him to avoid physical contact, at least. 

“I wish I could,” he said. “But Ragnor was our best chance of tracking Valentine. You and I both know that. And now he’s been taken, and I didn’t protect him.” 

“It’s not your job to protect him,” Alec said, “and Ragnor might have been our best chance of finding Valentine, but that doesn’t mean he was our _only_ chance.” 

“He was a warlock and he was probably in New York when he was taken,” Magnus countered. “That makes protecting him my job. And,” he added more quietly, “he’s my friend. I knew he was in danger, but I let him convince me that he’d be safe on his own.” 

Alec didn’t say anything, simply leaned in and pulled Magnus into a hug. Magnus let himself be pulled, nuzzling his cheek against the soft fabric of Alec’s shirt. 

“We’ll find Ragnor,” Alec promised. “And Dot, and all of the other warlocks who’ve been taken. And we’ll capture Valentine and throw a goddamn party when the Clave executes him.” 

“I didn’t think you liked parties,” Magnus said, trying for some levity. By the way Alec held him tighter, he didn’t think he quite managed it. 

“I’ll make an exception.” 

Magnus took a deep breath, grateful for the support that Alec offered, and grateful also that Alec offered it without expecting Magnus to look at him while they had this conversation. Magnus didn’t like to hide from his problems, but some things were easier to say if you weren’t facing the person you had to say them to. 

“Alexander,” he said, face still firmly pressed against Alec’s shoulder. “About what we were discussing earlier—” 

“I don’t care,” Alec said firmly. “Well, I do a bit. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little bit flattered that I was the reason you volunteered, but I don’t actually care how we got here.” He pulled back so Magnus could see his face and all of the sincerity there. “All I care about is that we _are_ here, together.”

Magnus managed a shaky smile. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that. I know it might not have sounded like it earlier, but I feel the same way. This isn’t how I would have chosen for us to get together, but now that we are, I can’t regret any of it.” 

“I just wish there were more I could do to help you find your friends,” Alec said. “I know how awful I would feel if something happened to Jace or Izzy.” He sighed. “I’m not good at stuff like this. Fighting demons, I can do. But I’ve never been great at this whole comfort thing.” 

“I think you’re very good at it,” Magnus told him. “There’s nothing more I could ask for than to have you with me right now. This is exactly what I need.” 

“I guess I’m pretty okay at existing,” Alec said with a small smile. 

“For which I am exceedingly glad,” Magnus told him. “Although, now that you mention it, there is one more thing you could do.” 

“Name it,” Alec said. 

Magnus bit his lip. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. It’s just, I think I’d feel better. But you can say no.” 

“Magnus,” Alec said, running his hands down Magnus’s arms, “just ask. If it’s too much, I’ll say so.” 

“Would you stay with me in my room tonight?” Magnus asked, all in a rush. “I think I’d sleep better if I weren’t alone.” 

“Of course,” Alec said, like it was nothing. “Anything you need. Besides, it’s not like sleeping next to you is any big hardship. In case you forgot,” he added with a shy smile, “that’s kind of where I was hoping I’d end up tonight to begin with.” 

“That’s a little bit different,” Magnus said, returning the smile. “I hardly think you were hoping for me to cry myself to sleep on your shoulder.” 

“No,” Alec agreed, “and I hate that you feel like crying at all, but Magnus, I’m here for you, however you need me.” 

“I wish I had the words to properly tell you how much that means to me,” Magnus told him. 

“How about you just let me get you to bed, instead?” Alec suggested. “You look as exhausted as I feel, and we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow.” 

“I think that sounds like an excellent compromise,” Magnus told him. 

Hand in hand, they made their way to Magnus’s bedroom.

Morning came, as it always did, far too early for Alec’s liking. This time, though, he woke more comfortable than he could ever remember being, the bed just the right amount of soft beneath him and gentle fingers carding through his hair.

“I’m leaving you for your bed,” he said, cracking open one eye. “We’ve formed an irrevocable bond, and we’re running away to elope as soon as I’m actually awake.”

“I’m pretty sure bigamy is illegal in New York,” Magnus told him.

“We’ll go to, I don’t know, Antarctica or something. Somewhere no one is going to judge us for our love.”

“Alternate proposal,” Magnus offered. “You stay here, and we can share my bed every night.”

“That’s a very compelling counteroffer,” Alec said.

“I was thinking pancakes for breakfast. Assuming you’re awake enough, of course.”

“Pancakes and coffee?” Alec asked hopefully.

Magnus sighed theatrically. “One night in my bed and already you’re getting spoiled and greedy.”

“Is that really surprising?” Alec asked. “I’d think most people would be spoiled and greedy after a night in your bed.”

“Normally, I’d be flattered by a comment like that, but given that you woke up declaring your intention to leave me for my bed, I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

Alec pulled him into a quick, sleep-sloppy kiss. “Obviously, I prefer the option where I get to have you _and_ the bed.”

“And the pancakes and the coffee?”

“Mmm,” Alec agreed.

“All right,” Magnus said, standing. “You finish waking up, I’ll get breakfast ready, and then we can get to work. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that Biscuit has already texted me with several new ideas for using the portal shard to find her mother.”

“Any of them actually any good?” Alec asked, forcing himself to sit up.

“No,” Magnus said, “but I can’t fault her enthusiasm.”

Alec thought he probably could. Alec certainly could. But he didn’t say so. Magnus seemed much more optimistic this morning than he had the night before, when he really had cried himself to sleep on Alec’s shoulder.

Alec got dressed quickly, feeling a little strange going back to his own room for clothes. He wondered as he did so if Magnus had been serious about him spending every night in Magnus’s bed, or if it had just been part of their banter. He wasn’t opposed to the idea at all, but the past twenty-four hours had been a bit intense, and he didn’t want to assume Magnus had been serious if it was just a joke. They didn’t need that kind of misunderstanding right now, not with as much stress as Magnus was under.

Of course, it wouldn’t be any better to assume Magnus had been joking if that weren’t the truth, either. Probably, he should just ask. They’d had enough trouble not saying what they meant already.

“I hope you like apple butter on your pancakes,” Magnus said as he entered the dining room. “There’s this orchard north of Seattle that sells the best apple butter this time of year, and I couldn’t resist.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had apple butter on pancakes,” Alec admitted. “But I love it on toast, and anyway I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to ruin pancakes.”

Magnus gave him a dubious look. “I’m suddenly questioning your taste in pancakes. It is _definitely_ possible to ruin them. Maybe I should just be in charge of pancakes from now on.”

“I’m never going to complain about my husband conjuring me pancakes,” Alec said, taking his place at the table. “This looks amazing.”

It took Alec several seconds to realize that Magnus hadn’t moved. “What?” he asked, looking up to find Magnus staring at him.

“Nothing,” Magnus said, shaking his head and taking his own seat. “It’s just, I don’t think you’ve ever called me your husband before.”

“Oh,” Alec said. “I’m sorry?” he offered.

“No, don’t be,” Magnus said quickly. “I don’t dislike it. I was just surprised.”

Alec felt a small warmth bloom in his chest at the idea that Magnus liked being called his husband. It was still new and uncertain, this thing between them, but after the confessions of the previous night, he was more confident than ever that they were on the same page. Even if they apparently really hadn’t been to begin with.

It was still a strange thing to try to wrap his head around, that Magnus had volunteered to marry him not out of some long, well-thought out plan the way Alec had, but spur of the moment. And that Magnus had volunteered not just to marry for the Accords, but to marry _him_ , even if he’d thought at first that it wasn’t going to happen. What he’d said, though, about not being able to stand the thought of Alec marrying someone else, that still floored Alec. He’d thought of the same thing, of course, what it would be like if he’d been rejected and he’d had to watch Magnus marry another Shadowhunter. He would have hated it. It was reassuring to hear that they were and had been so close in their feelings this whole time. It made Alec wonder if, had things been different and this marriage for the Accords had never come about, they might have ended up here anyway.

“What are you smiling about?” Magnus asked.

“Nothing,” Alec said around a mouthful of pancakes. “These are really good. The apple butter is amazing.”

“We should visit the orchard sometime,” Magnus told him. “It’s beautiful this time of year, with the trees all heavy from fruit.”

“You know, you never struck me as the kind of guy who was into farming,” Alec said.

“I wouldn’t say I’m into it,” Magnus said, “but it’s interesting to see where food comes from.”

“I’m more interested in eating food than seeing where it comes from,” Alec said.

“So I’ve noticed.”

“You know,” Alec said, “for a guy who conjures all of his food and was just besmirching my pancake-making skills despite never having tasted my pancakes, you’re awfully judgmental.”

“Not judgmental,” Magnus corrected. “Amused.”

“I’m glad I entertain you,” Alec said, stuffing another bite of pancakes into his mouth and washing it down a mouthful of truly amazing coffee.

“Cat is going to meet us at the Institute after breakfast,” Magnus told him. “She recorded everything she could remember from working with Ragnor yesterday, and she’s going to see how close she can get to recreating that counter-potion while we work on finding Valentine and the missing warlocks.”

Alec noticed that he spoke about “the missing warlocks” rather than Ragnor and Dot, and wondered if that was Magnus’s way of keeping himself focused on the job rather than his missing friends. It was something Alec might have done himself in a similar situation.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Alec told him. “Can you work with Clary to see how much more information you can get out of that portal shard?”

Magnus nodded. “That was the plan.”

“I’ve got extra patrols scouting the area Iris identified as the likely location of Valentine’s hideout, but no leads there so far. I’m thinking of taking Izzy and Jace down there and checking it out myself.”

“We could go together,” Magnus suggested.

Alec wanted to argue, to explain that, no, really, he could take care of himself, especially with Jace and Izzy as backup. But then he saw the soft, vulnerable look in Magnus’s eyes, the one he was trying to hide behind his own coffee cup. The same look he’d had when he asked Alec to stay with him last night.

“Sure,” he agreed. If it made Magnus feel better to stay together, he wasn’t going to argue. Not now. “It will be good to have a warlock with us if we find Valentine’s hideout so we can have someone to portal us back when we’re ready to make our move.”

“It might be a good idea to start sending warlocks out with your patrols in that area,” Magnus suggested. “If you think your Shadowhunters would be amenable.”

“Some of them would,” Alec assured him. “And I could make sure those Shadowhunters ended up on those patrols. How many warlocks do you think would be willing to partner with Shadowhunters like that?”

“I’ll have to ask,” Magnus told him, “but for the chance of finding Valentine? I’d wager at least a few.”

Alec was mentally putting together a list of Shadowhunters he knew he could trust to work well with warlocks, along with a secondary list of Shadowhunters he _might_ be able to trust if they got desperate, when the world erupted into motion and sound. It only took him a few seconds to catch up to what was happening—he was a trained soldier after all—but those were seconds he didn’t have, not without his weapons, not as badly outnumbered as they were.

And, oh, they were outnumbered. Alec counted half a dozen warlocks, all sporting the distinctive dark veins Iris had explained were a symptom of Valentine’s serum, and twice that many Circle members pouring through a portal into the loft. He barely had time to recognize one of those warlocks as Ragnor, to see the dawning horror on Magnus’s face, before he threw himself at the closest Circle member.

It was an abysmally short fight. Alec did manage to take down two of the Circle members, despite being unarmed while they were armed to the teeth, but he simply wasn’t a match for so many. Especially not when one of the warlocks used magic to bind his movement.

Magnus managed to hold his own for a few minutes longer, but their attackers had clearly come prepared and with a plan. All too soon, Magnus was subdued, as well, sporting a pair of magic-blocking manacles that Alec recognized from his own Institute’s equipment room.

“Take the warlock back to our base.” Alec recognized Valentine Morgenstern from pictures, though he was far older now than any of the photos in the Clave’s files. “Secure him and heal his wounds. I need him undamaged.”

“You will regret this,” Magnus promised darkly. “I won’t be a party to whatever you’re planning, and I won’t—”

“And shut him up,” Valentine told a short, blonde warlock, otherwise ignoring Magnus completely.

Magnus’s voice cut off immediately, and Alec assumed he’d been magically silenced.

“The Clave will find you,” Alec told Valentine. “They know you’re alive and they will destroy you, and the Circle.”

“Spare me your little speech of defiance,” Valentine said, rolling his eyes. “The Circle has survived longer than you’ve been alive, and it will endure for years to come. Not that you’ll be around to see it, I’m afraid.”

Valentine turned to Ragnor. “Kill this one, and leave the body,” he told him. “Make it messy.”

Alec had barely enough time for Valentine’s words to sink in, to register the abject horror on Magnus’s face, before his world exploded into pain. Then, hours or maybe seconds later, went blessedly black.


	11. Chapter 11

The floor of the cell was steel, Magnus knew that much. He thought it was maybe four feet by four feet wide, not long enough to stretch out fully lying down, but almost long enough corner to corner. He was fairly certain he was on a boat of some sort. He didn’t know how long he’d been there. He couldn’t see the sun, and no one spoke to him. The door and walls were opaque, so he couldn’t see out. If they were feeding him regular meals, and Magnus suspected they were, since they’d been very careful to tend his injuries and keep him from further injuring himself, then he’d been there for maybe two days.

When he’d been taken by the Circle, when Valentine insisted on keeping him alive, Magnus had assumed that Valentine or one of his cronies would eventually explain why they needed him alive. He’d expected to be questioned, at least. He hadn’t been. He’d merely been put in this cell and forgotten, other than to have his basic needs met. No one even bothered to gloat. Whatever the Circle needed him for, _he_ was nothing to them.

He tried not to think of Alexander, of the way Alexander’s screams echoed in his ears as his captors dragged him through the portal. He tried not to think of Alexander’s blood staining the rug on their dining room floor. He tried not to think of Ragnor, captured by Valentine and forced to commit this awful act. He tried not to think of the wards on his loft he hadn’t thought to update after Ragnor had been taken. The wards that had allowed the Circle into his loft, allowed them to take him. Allowed them to kill Alexander.

No, he wouldn’t think about Alec. Not now. He couldn’t. He needed to keep his wits about him because he was going to escape. He was going to escape and kill every single person responsible.

It was the same circle of thoughts he’d been through for the past however many hours he’d been here. It was his fault, and he was going to kill everyone who’d been responsible for hurting Alexander, and then... He never got past that part.

The sound of approaching footsteps signaled what was likely another meal. Magnus thought it must be too soon. He was sure he’d only just finished breakfast (or was it lunch?), but no one ever came to his cell for any other reason, so clearly that’s what was going on. Except the footsteps didn’t sound like the heavy boots most Shadowhunters favored, or the dress shoes some of the more dapper Circle members were prone to. Personally, Magnus thought it made them look like mobsters, but in a sense, they kind of were, so he didn’t question it.

These footsteps, though, were soft, almost cautious. It was only somewhat of a surprise, then, when there was a quick tap on the door of his cell, and a familiar voice called softly, “Magnus? Are you there?”

“Dorothea!” Magnus jumped to his feet, pushing as close to the door as his restraints would allow.

“Oh, thank god I got the right cell,” Dot breathed. “We’ve been trying to figure out where they were keeping you for days.”

“Dot, do you know what’s happening?” Magnus questioned. “Where are we? Are the other warlocks who were taken here, too? What does Valentine want from me?”

“I don’t have much time,” Dot told him, “but I’ll tell you what I can. We’re in a cargo ship on the East River. We only come and go by portal, so I never know the exact location. At least some of the Downworlders Valentine has kidnapped are here. I don’t know if he’s keeping others at another location, or if they’re all dead. Not everyone survives his experiments.” Her voice dropped. “One of the little girls they brought in didn’t.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Magnus told her. He couldn’t bring himself to ask about Ragnor, although Dot had mentioned him. He knew what happened to Alexander wasn’t Ragnor’s fault, not really, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of Ragnor’s magic ripping Alec’s skin open, spraying blood across the table and floor. “And that you were able to find me. Dot, we have to find a way out of here.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Dot told him. “There’s not much Ragnor and I can do. Whatever Valentine injected us with, we can’t disobey a direct order from him, and it’s hard enough even getting around what he hasn’t told us. There’s powerful magic protecting this place, too. Anyone trying to leave on foot or going over the side is killed instantly, and all of the warlocks have been ordered not to open any portals except under Valentine’s explicit command.”

“I don’t supposed Valentine conveniently forgot to tell you not to release me?” Magnus asked.

“No, but Jocelyn is awake, and she thinks if Valentine is distracted enough, she might be able to get you free.”

Magnus snorted. “No offense to Jocelyn’s clearly amazing and well-considered plan, but I sincerely doubt after everything that’s happened, Valentine is going to trust Jocelyn enough to let her out of his sight.”

“That’s where the distraction comes in,” Dot told him. “Valentine is planning to contact Clary and offer to trade Jocelyn for the Mortal Cup. He’s not actually planning to make the trade, of course. He wants Jocelyn _and_ the Cup. And Clary. But when Clary shows up, he’ll be distracted, and Jocelyn thinks she’s figured out a way to use that distraction to get you free.”

“What makes any of you think Clary is going to agree to the trade?” Magnus asked. “Even if she did, the Clave isn’t going to just agree to hand over the Cup.”

“Magnus, I’ve known Clary since she was a child. If there’s any chance of getting her mother back, she’ll take it, no matter what the cost is. I know it and Jocelyn knows it, and unfortunately Valentine knows it.”

“But the Clave—” Magnus protested.

“Are distracted right now,” Dot said gently. “It’s all part of Valentine’s plan to start a war between the Clave and the Downworld. He killed Alec Lightwood and made it look like you did it.”

The words hit Magnus like a blow to the chest, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He’d known, of course. He’d _seen_. But there had been some tiny spark of hope left, deep in his heart, that Alexander had somehow managed to survive. Dorothea’s words snuffed that spark like it was a cheap candle.

He had to remind himself that Dot didn’t mean to be callous. She’d never met Alec. She didn’t know—couldn’t know—what he’d meant to Magnus.

“That’s why you’re here,” Dot continued. “Valentine plans to kill you in a couple more days and leave your body somewhere conspicuous, to make it look like you were killed by Shadowhunters in retaliation. Even the people who don’t believe you’re responsible for the murder will believe that.”

“But why?” Magnus asked, swallowing down his grief and trying to focus. “Surely, even Valentine knows what a disaster a war between the Clave and the Downworld would be. It would be a bloodbath!”

“He doesn’t care about Downworlders dying—he _wants_ us all dead—and he sees the Shadowhunters who would die as necessary casualties. He thinks this will convince the Clave that he was right all along, that it will open them up to being taken over by the Circle. He thinks it will destroy the Accords.”

“He’s insane.” Magnus said. It all made a horrible kind of sense, and Magnus hated it. He wondered how long Valentine had been planning this. Was this his plan even before he and Alexander had been chosen to make the marriage for the Accords, or was this plan specific to the two of them? It might not have worked with someone less well-known than he was, at least not as well. It was just one more thing to feel guilty for. If not for him and his ridiculous, spur of the moment decision to volunteer, the Downworld might not be in danger. Alexander might still be alive.

“He’s beyond insane,” Dot agreed. “I think he actually believes that he and Jocelyn and Clary can be a happy family once they’re all together again.”

“At least,” Magnus said, “a madman is more likely to make mistakes. Tell Jocelyn that I’m being held in manacles that bind me from using my magic. If she can get me free of these, then I’ll do everything in my power to take Valentine down.”

“We’ll try to get word to you about when the exchange is going to happen, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to, so you’ll have to be ready.”

“I don’t exactly have a good way of keeping track of time anyway,” Magnus said. “Be careful, all of you. And Dorothea?” He took a deep breath, needing to say the words, needing to mean them. “Tell Ragnor I don’t blame him.”

There was a beat of silence before Dot promised, “I will.”

Magnus listened to her soft footsteps fade away down the hallway, leaving him alone in his cell with his thoughts once again.

Consciousness returned in fits and starts. Alec was aware of voices first. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he recognized Jace and Izzy and a third voice he knew but couldn’t place. He knew the third voice was friendly, though, so he let it go, let everything go and slipped back into unconsciousness.

The second time he woke, sort of woke, it was to touch. On his arm, on his face. This time, he recognized the voice, the third voice from before. Catarina. She must be healing him, he realized. He was injured. That was why he was unconscious. Semi-conscious. Whatever. But he was with Catarina, and Jace, and Izzy, and he was safe. He let himself drift again. 

The third time, he was aware that something was missing. Someone was missing. Something was deeply, deeply. Wrong. Catarina was there again, and Izzy. He could hear them talking, but still couldn’t tell what they were saying. He recognized one word, though. Magnus. That’s what was missing. Who was missing. Magnus. And then he remembered. The portal, the Shadowhunters and warlocks and pain and blood and _Magnus_. God, they’d taken Magnus. This time, he fought unconsciousness tooth and nail, but he was no match for it, and it pulled him under once again. 

The fourth time Alec woke, he was determined to stay awake. There were no voices this time, but he was aware of a presence sitting beside him. Jace. With great effort, Alec forced his eyes open. He was lying on his side, facing a small, wooden table. From the table, a folded paper frog stared back at him.

His eyes flickered to where Jace was sitting beside the bed. “Where’s Magnus?”

“You’re at Catarina’s,” Jace told him. “We brought you here after we found you bleeding out at the loft, and then Lydia thought it was best if you stayed here instead of the Institute. I'll explain everything in a minute, but I have to call Izzy and Lydia and tell them you’re awake, and Catarina will probably want to look you over again.”

Alec reached out to grab Jace’s arm, even that small movement making his head spin. “Jace,” he said as evenly as he could manage, “where’s Magnus?”

“I don’t know,” Jace said, shaking his head. “You were alone when we found you.”

“Alec?” came a small voice from the doorway.

“Madzie,” he said, struggling into a sitting position and forcing a smile. “Hey.”

“You got hurt again,” she told him, walking over to the bed. She had Mr. Flopsy clutched tight in her arms.

“I’m going to call Iz and let Catarina know you’re awake,” Jace said.

Alec gave him a quick nod, then turned back to Madzie. “I did,” he agreed, “but Catarina healed me and now I’m all better.”

“You were asleep for a long time. I couldn’t stay all the time, but I left a frog to watch you while I was gone,” she added, pointing at the paper frog on the table.

“Thank you,” Alec told her. “He did a very good job guarding me.”

“I wanted to make you a dragon, but it’s not finished yet.”

“Maybe you could work on it some more while I check Alec’s injuries,” Catarina suggested as she entered the room, Jace following behind her.

“I want to stay with Alec,” Madzie insisted.

“We’re going to be doing boring, adult stuff," Alec told her. "You should work on that dragon so you can show it to me when I’m done being boring.”

Madzie stared at him for a long moment, considering. “Okay,” she said finally. “You’re not allowed to get hurt while I’m gone, though.”

“It’s a deal,” Alec told her. He waited until he heard a door open and close elsewhere in the house before demanding, “What happened? How did I get here? Why am I here instead of the Institute?” 

“I felt you dying,” Jace said. “I felt you get hurt, and I knew that you were dying, and I just. I grabbed Iz and Clary, and we ran to the loft. We got there as fast as we could, and you were still hanging on when we got there. And then Catarina showed up.” 

“Someone made a very obvious, very loud mess of Magnus’s wards,” Catarina explained. “On purpose, I suspect. I couldn’t help but notice.”

“Ragnor,” Alec said. “Valentine and the Circle attacked us at the loft. They had warlocks with them under the influence of that mind-control serum, and Ragnor was one of them. If someone was trying to attract attention, it was probably him.”

“That sounds like something he’d do,” Catarina agreed. “You were close to dying when I got there, but I was able to stabilize you. You lost a lot of blood.” 

“We brought you back here,” Jace explained. “We weren’t sure what had happened, and we didn’t know where Magnus was, so we brought you here. And this is where Catarina keeps all of her healing supplies. We called Lydia to let her know you’d been attacked, and she told us to stay where we were.” 

“I was worried about moving you,” Catarina said. “Along with the blood loss, you had some spinal injuries.” 

Alec remembered that searing flash of pain through his middle. Yeah, spinal injuries would definitely explain that. 

“How long have I been out?” Alec wanted to know. 

“Almost three days,” Catarina told him.

Three days. He’d been unconscious for three days. Magnus had been in Valentine’s hands for _three days_.

“We have to find Magnus,” Alec said. “Valentine took him. They took him and they left me to die. We have to find him.” 

He tried ineffectually to get out of bed, but he was weak enough that Jace was able to hold him back with one hand. He was weak enough that Jace didn’t even flinch when Alec tried to throw a punch. 

“Dude, relax,” Jace said. “You’re not strong enough to get out of bed, let alone go after the entire Circle by yourself.” 

“Believe me,” Catarina said, “no one is planning on leaving Magnus in Valentine’s hands.” 

“Right now, we don’t know what Valentine is planning,” Lydia said, striding into the room with Izzy and Clary trailing behind her, “but we do have some clues. I heard rumors of your supposed murder before Jace and Izzy even told me you’d been attacked. It seemed pretty suspicious, which is why we decided to keep you here while you healed instead of taking you back to the Institute.” 

“You wanted to keep it a secret that I’m alive?” Alec nodded in understanding. “That was a good plan. The Consul warned me there was a possibility that the Circle might have infiltrated the Institute.” 

Lydia’s eyebrows shot up at that. “The Consul never felt the need to tell _me_ anything about that.” 

“She kept it under pretty tight wraps,” Alec told her. “Only a few people knew, and I’m only one of them because the Circle chose to make its reappearance in New York.”

“And you’ve deemed me trustworthy now that I haven’t killed you when I had the chance?” Lydia guessed. 

“Pretty much,” Alec told her. “No offense.” 

“None taken. You barely know me, so of course you didn’t trust me. I’m just glad you do now because we have a serious problem on our hands.” 

“No kidding,” Alec agreed. “Do you know why Valentine wants me dead?” 

“We’re pretty sure he’s the one who started the rumors that Magnus killed you,” Izzy chimed in. 

Alec stared at her. “That’s ridiculous. Who would even believe that?” 

“People who don’t know you,” Lydia said. “People who don’t know Magnus. There are plenty in the Clave who thought this marriage was a mistake from the start. Those people are more than happy to believe that it ended in murder.” 

“Then we need to tell them that I’m alive,” Alec said. “The Accords—” 

“The Accords will survive another day,” Izzy said. “Until you’re healed enough to protect yourself, we couldn’t risk it. Consul Penhallow knows you’re alive, and so do Mom and Dad. They all agreed keeping it quiet was the best choice.” 

“We didn’t know who to trust, either,” Lydia said. 

“And as long as Valentine thinks you’re dead, then he still has the incentive to keep Magnus alive for whatever scheme he’s working on,” Catarina said. 

“That’s good thinking,” Alec agreed. “What do we know?” 

“We know that Jocelyn Fairchild is awake,” Jace said. “Valentine used the portal shard to contact Clary a couple hours ago. He offered to make a trade, Jocelyn for the Mortal Cup.” 

Alec looked at Clary. “Did you tell him to fuck off?” 

“I told him I needed time to think about it,” Clary said. “If there’s even a chance we could get my mother back, we have to try.”

“But we’re not actually planning to give him the Cup,” Jace said quickly. Alec appreciated the clarification, even if he’d figured that was the case. Even if Clary was reckless enough to do so, even if she’d managed to weave whatever her magic of persuasion was to convince Jace and Izzy, there was no way Lydia would have agreed to any such thing.

“We can trade a fake,” Clary said, “and get my mom back.”

“And then follow Valentine back to his hideout,” Catarina added, “so we know where he's keeping the missing Downworlders.”

“Then we raid the hideout, rescue the Downworlders, and take Valentine and the rest of Circle into custody,” Alec concluded. “It's a good plan. I'm leading the raid on Valentine's hideout.”

This pronouncement was met with a chorus of disagreement, but Alec held up a hand to forestall them. “The only reason I'm not out there looking for Magnus right now is that this plan is probably the fastest way to find him.”

“And because you can't stand up without falling over,” Jace muttered.

Alec threw him a fierce glare, but Jace glared right back.

“Dude, you almost _died._ You're in no shape to go back into the field yet.”

It was a conversation they'd had before, more than once. Alec distinctly disliked being on this side of it.

“How long before I'm fully recovered?” he asked Catarina.

“Four days if you're lucky. A week or two if you're not.”

“That's too long,” Alec said, shaking his head. “How long until I can stand up without getting dizzy?”

“You'll probably be walking again by tomorrow, but—”

“Good,” Alec said, cutting her off. “Clary, contact Valentine. Tell him you need time to get the Cup, but you can make the exchange tomorrow night.”

He turned to Catarina. “You know any warlocks who might be willing to help take down the Circle?”

She gave him a grim smile. “I don't have the kind of connections Magnus does, but I know a few. And I know Raphael would be willing to conscript the entire New York vampire clan to help rescue Ragnor and Magnus.”

“Can he do that?” Alec asked.

“Yeah,” Jace said slowly, “There was kind of this whole thing while you were out where Camille illegally turned Clary's mundie friend—”

“His name is Simon!” Clary interjected.

“—and her clan didn't take too kindly to her breaking the Accords, so Raphael is in charge now.”

Alec blinked. “Okay. Any other major political upheavals I missed while I was unconscious?”

He meant it as sarcasm, but Clary piped up, “Luke is the Alpha of the New York pack now. And I know he'll want to be involved in rescuing Mom.”

“Sure,” Alec said. “Fine. Anything else?” He looked at Izzy, half expecting her to tell him a goat was the new Seelie Queen.

Izzy grinned. “Isn't that enough? I can ask Meliorn if any seelies want in on the action, though.”

“Might as well make it a party,” Alec said. “Lydia, I can give you a list of Shadowhunters I'm pretty sure we can trust on this mission. Can you get them ready without letting in what we’re actually doing? I don't want them to know what the mission is, or that I'm alive, until the last minute, just in case.”

“Not a problem,” Lydia said. “What do we tell the Council?”

“What have you told them already?”

“Not much,” Lydia admitted. “Just the message I sent to Consul Penhallow letting her know you’re alive and that we were keeping you hidden. I haven't exactly had time to make detailed reports with everything that's going on.”

“Good,” Alec told her. “I think you'll be too busy for the next couple days, too, don't you?”

Lydia made a face. “If this doesn't work, the Council will have our asses for not clearing it with them first.”

“If we make a report to the Council and any of it gets back to Valentine, our plan is shot,” Alec argued. “If the mission goes south, I'll take full responsibility. My Institute, my fuck-up.”

“All right,” Lydia relented.

Alec glanced around the room. “What are the rest of you still standing around for? I gave you jobs, go do them.”

For a wonder, they actually did.


	12. Chapter 12

The sound of the cell door swinging open woke Magnus from the light sleep he’d managed to fall into. After speaking with Dot, he was finally able to force himself into the sleep that eluded him before. He knew he’d need to be rested if there were any chance for Jocelyn’s plan to work. And he needed Jocelyn’s plan to work.

“Val’s making the exchange in a little over an hour,” Jocelyn said quietly as she knelt beside him. “He’s getting his people ready now. We’re portaling out in about ten minutes. If we’re very lucky, no one will notice that I or this,” she pulled a stele from her boot, “are gone before I get back.”

“Where is exchange taking place?” Magnus asked, feeling access to his magic come back in a rush as the manacles fell from his wrists.

“Are you familiar with Renwick’s?”

“The old smallpox hospital?” Magnus asked. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

“We’re pulled close enough to the island that the warlocks who are portaling us in can see where we’re going,” Jocelyn told him, “so you should be able to get line of sight. Just stay out of sight. Depending on what kind of backup Clary’s thought to bring, you and the element of surprise might be the only advantage we have. When Clary arrives to make the exchange, wait for my signal. We only have one chance at this.”

“I understand,” Magnus said. “Go. Before they notice you’re missing.”

Now that he had access to his magic again, it was tempting to ignore Jocelyn’s warning about staying out of sight. In the days since his capture, Magnus’s grief had transformed from despair to a cold-burning fury. He wanted to rend, to destroy. But he couldn’t do that yet, not without putting the Downworlders under Valentine’s control in danger. He had to take down Valentine first, and since Valentine was who he really wanted anyway, he could wait.

It was easy enough to get to the top deck undetected, using his magic to peer through walls to make sure the way was clear. Portaling onto the island without being seen was a little more difficult, since Valentine had left sentries all around the perimeter of the hospital grounds. Magnus took a grim satisfaction in snapping two Circle members’ necks so he could slip past them without alerting their compatriots.

He used the same tactic to move through Renwick’s as he had on the ship. It was slow going, as he had to avoid being detected by the warlocks under Valentine’s control and couldn’t risk killing any more Circle members where they might be missed.

Magnus didn’t have a clock to check, but he thought it had been most of an hour since Jocelyn had freed him when he settled into a closet that shared a wall with the room where Valentine waited with two Circle members. Jocelyn was bound hands and feet to a chair beside Valentine, mouth gagged with white cloth, glaring balefully up at him as he absently stroked her shoulder. Magnus knew from his exploration of the abandoned hospital that several teams of Circle members and mind-controlled warlocks waited nearby to help subdue Clary and anyone she might bring with her.

Clary and Jace arrived a few minutes later. Alone, by all appearances, which made Magnus’s heart sink. He prayed it was a ruse, as Valentine’s apparent lack of backup was.

From his hiding place, Magnus couldn’t hear Clary’s conversation with Valentine, but he could see them clearly. He watched Jocelyn for anything that could conceivably constitute a signal, while keeping an eye on Valentine and Clary out of the corner of his eye.

As he watched, Clary reached into her bag and pulled out what could only be the Mortal Cup, and Magnus decided that if Jocelyn didn’t give him her signal in the next five seconds, he was done waiting and she could just follow his lead.

Several things happened at once. Valentine reached for the Cup. Jocelyn rose from her chair, bindings falling away as if they’d never been tied, and threw herself at Clary. And a portal opened in each corner of the room, letting in the teams Valentine had stationed outside the rendezvous point.

Magnus wasted no time in opening his own portal, targeting Valentine even as he stepped out of it. There was a part of him that wanted to draw this out, to watch Valentine scream and beg. But he wanted even more to see Valentine _dead_ , and ensuring that meant doing it quickly.

With precise motions, Magnus loosed three bolts of magic, targeting Valentine’s heart, windpipe, and brain stem. He didn’t know which one found its mark—maybe they all did—but Valentine’s body dropped like a rag doll to sprawl amidst the broken ceramic of whatever it was Clary had glamoured to look like the Mortal Cup.

Magnus didn’t have time to revel in Valentine’s death. He’d had a sort of vague hope that killing Valentine would release those under the influence of his mind-control serum from his influence, but the bolts of magic that flew his way suggested otherwise. The warlocks were Magnus’s next priority anyway, since they posed the biggest threat, and he wasn’t confident at all that others fighting them would care about their safety.

Magnus lost track of everything else that was happening over the next few minutes, focused as he was on dodging and parrying magical attacks. It was a good thing the warlocks Valentine had chosen to accompany him weren’t terribly powerful, or Magnus would have been in trouble. If he’d brought Ragnor, or even Dot, Magnus wasn’t sure he would have been able to hold them off without killing them.

He’d managed to take down one of the warlocks—just unconscious, he hoped, although it had been hard to gauge his attack when he was holding off two others and dodging a fourth—and was using a pile of wooden crates as a shield when he realized there were far more people involved in the fight than there had been when it began. Shadowhunters mostly, it looked like, but he saw werewolves and vampires in the mix, as well. It seemed that Clary and Jace had been smart enough to bring backup, after all.

A bolt of magic caught one of Magnus’s attackers in the back. Not enough to kill or even badly injure through the warlock’s defenses, but it certainly drew her attention away from Magnus. Magnus gave a quick smile of thanks to his defender and made a mental note to thank Elias properly when this was all over.

His opponents down to two, Magnus was finally able to really look at what was happening in the room. It was absolute chaos. Shadowhunters and Downworlders battling it out, Shadowhunters bearing the Circle rune fighting Shadowhunters without, Downworlders fighting their brothers and sisters who were under the influence of Valentine’s serum. And there, half in the hallway still and silhouetted by the hallway’s bright fluorescent light, but still recognizable as he took down opponents with ever-precise arrows, was Alexander.

It was impossible that he was here, but there was no mistaking it. Alec was here. Alec was _alive_.

The relief that threatened to overwhelm Magnus was interrupted by an inhumanly strong shove, pushing him out of the path of a bolt of magic he’d completely failed to notice in his surprise.

“Please try not to get yourself killed while we’re in the middle of rescuing you,” Raphael growled as he moved to face a Circle member who for some reason thought it was a good idea to take on a very annoyed vampire alone.

Right. The battle.

Magnus threw himself back into the fight, although he allowed himself the occasional glace to reassure himself that Alec was really there.

With the arrival of the combined Shadowhunter and Downworlder forces, it didn’t take long to subdue the Circle. The last Circle member had barely been restrained when Magnus was in Alec’s arms. He wasn’t even sure which of them moved to embrace the other first. He only knew that he was with Alexander, and they were both safe, and he never, ever planned on letting him go again if he could help it.

“I thought you were dead,” Magnus whispered against Alec’s neck. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I know,” Alec said, pressing a kiss to his temple before pulling back to look him in the eyes. “This whole time, trying to find you, not knowing if you were alive or dead, I’ve never felt that kind of fear. Ever. Magnus,” he took a shaky breath, “I love you.”

Magnus’s own breath caught in his throat, and he had to swallow it down before he could answer. “I love you, too.”

And then he was kissing Alec like he needed him more than he needed to breathe. Magnus almost thought he might.

“I hate to interrupt whatever this is,” Raphael said, not sounding in the least bit sorry, “but in case you’ve forgotten, we still have a bunch of people to rescue. Also, the building is on fire.”

Reluctantly, Magnus pulled away from Alec. “The other captive Downworlders are being held on a ship nearby,” he said. “I can portal us there.”

“We should probably take care of the fire first,” Alec said, reaching out to reclaim one of Magnus’s hands. “And getting the prisoners secured.”

Magnus squeezed Alec’s hand. No matter what else they had to deal with tonight, he had no intention of letting go.

Even after they’d put out all of the fires, both literal and figurative, it took hours to file all of the necessary reports with the Clave, not to mention explaining the entire mission and justifying why they hadn’t run it past the Council in the first place. It probably would have gone faster if Alec and Magnus had been willing to work in separate rooms, but there was no way Alec was letting Magnus out of his sight any time in the near future, and it was clear Magnus felt the same.

So, Alec filed reports on his tablet, sitting in a corner of the makeshift infirmary/lab where Magnus worked with Catarina and Izzy to figure out how to counteract the various potions and chemicals Valentine had injected the captured Downworlders—and, it turned out, a few Circle members—with. The actual infirmary was full of Shadowhunters being treated for their battle wounds.

From the chair where he was restrained until they successfully cleared his blood of Valentine’s serum, Ragnor offered his input on creating a potion to counter the serum. He’d offered Alec a profuse apology for his injuries, an apology which Alec insisted was unnecessary since Ragnor had been under Valentine’s control and since Ragnor hadn’t killed him outright the way Valentine no doubt expected. If it had been anyone else, Alec probably wouldn’t have survived long enough for Jace to find him.

The first person they managed to successfully free from the effects of the serum was a tiny, dark-haired warlock girl name Indra who’d been taken from Iris’s home. As soon as she was cured, Catarina brought Madzie to see her, and Indra immediately wrapped herself around the older girl and refused to let go. The two girls curled up on a cot near Alec, and Indra fell asleep while Madzie stroked her hair and told her all about the paper animals Madzie was going to teach her to fold.

Somewhere between reports for the Clave and updating the duty roster to account for injuries that would take more than a couple runes to heal, Alec dozed off. He woke to the gentle touch of Magnus’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You ready to head home?”

“I was ready hours ago,” Alec said, pushing to his feet. “I just wish the Clave hadn’t disagreed so vehemently.”

“I do hope they’re at least giving you the day off after all this,” Magnus said, offering his hand.

Alec took it, slotting their fingers together. “A whole week, actually. Technically, it’s medical leave,” he explained at Magnus’s surprised look. “On account of the whole almost dying, unconscious for several days thing. Lydia’s being reassigned to Paris—there’s apparently ‘something strange going on’ there that the Clave wants her to look into since they’re so happy with her work here—but she agreed to stay in New York until I’m back from leave.”

“Ah, the Council has decided to let you off your training wheels, then?” Magnus said as they stepped out of the Institute into the faint glow of pre-dawn light.

Alec snorted. “My Institute recovered the Mortal Cup, took down the Circle, and killed Valentine Morgenstern. No one questioning my suitability for this job has a leg to stand on anymore.”

“Not to take away from your accomplishments,” Magnus said, “but I’m pretty sure I remember killing Valentine myself.”

“But it happened on a mission I was leading,” Alec said. “As far as the Clave is concerned, that’s my jurisdiction. Of course, none of this keeps them from expecting me to report to Alicante to give the Council a full, in-person account of events as soon as I’m back from leave.”

“Naturally,” Magnus said. “And did you have any plans for how you’d like to spend this week of leave you suddenly find yourself with?”

“I did, actually,” Alec said, pulling Magnus to a stop so they could speak face to face. “I know our whole relationship has been kind of unconventional, and I’m honestly not sure how a normal relationship even works, but I was thinking it might be nice if we took this time to have an actual honeymoon.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Magnus said, smiling widely. “We could go see the olive groves in Tuscany. Oh! And I could finally take you to that place in Chiang Mai with the amazing _tam sua_.”

“That sounds great,” Alec said. “Maybe later in the week? I was sort of thinking we could spend a couple days at home.”

“Of course,” Magnus said, squeezing his arm. “You’re still recovering. You need to rest.”

“Yeah,” Alec said, “that’s not quite what I meant. I seem to remember my husband suggesting something about a hot threesome with his amazingly comfy bed.”

“Even better,” Magnus said, leaning in for a soft kiss. Which, naturally, led to another, less soft kiss, and then a third that was verging on wildly inappropriate for the middle of Central Park.

They were both breathless when they broke apart, and Alec couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as they stood, foreheads resting against each other.

“Take me home, Magnus,” he said.

“There’s nothing I’d like better, Alexander,” Magnus said, opening a portal to the loft. To home.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Come visit me on [Tumblr](https://rhosyn-du.tumblr.com/).


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